


To Assassinate an Angel

by ThePiesEndure



Series: Simple Plan FanFiction [3]
Category: Simple Plan
Genre: AR, AU, Angels, Fanfiction, M/M, pietrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 81,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePiesEndure/pseuds/ThePiesEndure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pierre Bouvier's elder brother, Jon is the Prime Minister of Canada. He and his wife are mysteriously assassinated leaving a little boy, their son Gabriel in the care of Pierre. There is something different about this little boy, which Pierre comes to find out. He, and his friend Patrick need to find out what is going on before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Call

****_Sunday November 18th 2007  
  
Chuck’s Basement  
  
1 AM_  
  
“Four songs? Hardly seems worth it.” Steam curled up from the hot coffee that Pierre nursed in his hands.  
  
He was facing his best friend in the relatively warm office that was sectioned off from the rest of the basement. The wall was temporary fibro plasterboard that Chuck’s dad had put up many years earlier.  
  
The two men were alone going over the set list for the band’s promo tour. Simple Plan had released the first single of their forth-coming album several weeks prior.  
  
Chuck Comeau shifted a pile of tops off a footstool, propping his feet on top. “Yeah, maybe not. But, it’s all we have time for. The schedule’s real tight.”  
  
Pierre sipped at his drink, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste. “Shit. Why do I drink this crap?”  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “Because you don’t sleep.”  
  
“Heh, anyways...” Pierre set the mug on the chair next to him and folded his arms. “Whose idea was it to book the shows so close together?”  
  
“Patrick’s.”  
  
As soon as the other man answered, Pierre groaned and smeared his hands over his face. “Why the fuck did I even ask? Of course, it’d be Pat’s idea.  _Fuck_. It’s like he enjoys fucking with my head.”  
  
His friend frowned, eyes narrowed, the normally light brown hue, darker. “You can hardly blame him. You did disappear for awhile.”  
  
Pierre shot a hard look at Chuck; when he spoke, his tone was defensive. “That was real early in the year, after we came back from Brazil. He could hardly fault me. We all took a break. And I was still writing for the album.”  
  
Chuck shook his head, exasperated. “But you just went AWOL. Kaput.” He stood and paced across the small space. Pierre watched him silently, his expression giving nothing away. His friend went on, voice tight. “Your cell was off and Pat...well he was going...going off his head.” He swung around to face Pierre who just stared at him impassively. “Where the fuck did you go, Pierre?”  
  
Pierre shrugged one shoulder, leaning back against the chair. He began absently running his hand over the tattoo that covered the entire length of his left arm.  
  
“Las Vegas,” he finally replied as he traced the outline of one of the pink flowers. “But, you already knew that.”  
  
Chuck groaned at the realisation that he was right. “Yeah...Yeah. Jesus. I saw those photos.”  
  
Pierre bristled. “Don’t drag that up.” His eyes flashed furiously.  
  
Chuck held up his hands. “Sorry, man. I wouldn’t, normally...but the fans...”  
  
Pierre sighed letting his head drop back against the seat. He knew what his friend meant; he’d seen all the posts on his personal MySpace page and on one of the fan sites concerning several supposed revealing pictures of him that were circulating on the net.  
  
“I know. But it meant nothing. I was just letting off steam.” He paused. “You know how I feel about chicks.”  
  
Chuck smirked slightly. Didn’t he just. “That’s true.”  
  
He sat again and they fell into a comfortable silence. The only sound in the small office was that of their breathing and the hum of the desktop monitor.  
  
After several moments, Pierre lifted his mug and took another long sip before continuing with their initial discussion. “So. Four songs. Guess  _When I’m Gone_  has to be one of them.”  
  
Chuck reached over to the desk and lifted a worn notebook from under the mouse pad, flipping it open. “No duh. That’s the whole point.”  
  
Pierre chuckled. “Yeah, first single and all.” He scratched his cheek, the stubble on his jaw causing him to itch a little. “I played it to my brother the other day.”  
  
Chuck looked up a quizzical look in his eyes. “Jon? Or Jay?”  
  
“Jon. Hah, he had time out of his busy schedule to take notice of his little brother for a change.”  
  
Chuck couldn’t help but note the bitterness in his friend’s voice. “Well,” he hesitated, “he is the Prime Minister.”  
  
Pierre snorted in derision. “Yeah, the youngest ever in recorded history. He’s only 34, and he let’s no-one forget it.”  
  
“Aren’t you at least a little happy for him?” Chuck asked, yawning a little.  
  
“Happy?” Pierre laughed coldly. “I’d be happier if he paid more attention to Gabe.”  
  
He finished his coffee then leaned over to pick up one of the tops that Chuck had pushed onto the floor. He held it up to his body, examining it closely.  
  
Chuck tilted his head. “Your nephew?”  
  
“Gabriel Bouvier. Great kid.” Pierre peered over the shirt. “He’s 8. Kinda quiet.” He smiled wistfully. “Likes his  _Tonton_ Pierre.”  
  
Chuck smiled as well. “Bet you make a great uncle.”  
  
Pierre scrunched up the shirt -- a mustard brown T-shirt with a fancy Role Model insignia printed on the front -- tossing it back on the pile. “Yeah. If I ever got the chance to spend time with him. Angela doesn’t want me anywhere near him. Says, because I’m in a band I’d be a bad influence on him. Emphasis on the ‘bad’.”  
  
Chuck stifled a laugh. “Well, five years ago that might have been the case.”  
  
Curling his lip slightly, Pierre said, “Yeah. Pat’s made an honest man of me, eh.”  
  
His friend couldn’t stop himself this time laughing out loud, wiping a finger across his eyelids. Pierre just raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Minutes passed and Chuck stopped to catch his breath.  
  
“So, what did Jon say about the song?”  
  
“He didn’t, he put Gabe on the phone.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah.” A fleeting smile passed across Pierre’s face. “Gabe loved it.”  
  
“Heh, be careful you might corrupt the precious child.”  
  
Pierre growled. “No fear there. They didn’t call him after an angel for no reason.”  
  
Chuck snickered. And then the distinctive chords of  _Hey There Delilah_  split the relative quiet in the basement. Pierre mumbled under his breath as he fumbled for his cell phone, glancing at the caller ID.  
  
“Speak of the devil...it’s my brother.”  
  
Chuck lifted his eyebrows as Pierre held the phone up to his ear and answered. “Pierre Bouvier speaking...” His brow furrowed at the voice on the other end of the line. “What?  _What?_  What are you saying...?”  
  
Chuck frowned watching as the expression on his best friend’s face darkened. Pierre stood grabbing at a microphone stand that had been left leaning against the temporary wall.  
  
His grasp appeared to shake a little; his voice when he next talked into the phone was a harsh whisper. “ _Shot_...no... _fuck_...and...and...she’s...she’s  _dead_...shit...”  
  
He was white-knuckling the stand now. Chuck remained frozen on his seat as Pierre crumpled to the floor, face ashen.  
  
“What...what about Gabriel?” He breathed in, holding it, praying, hoping. “Oh, God... Thank God...he...he...what? Why? What about Jay...oh... Now? No? Soon... When? Oh, God...okay...okay...”  
  
He managed to flick the phone off before it slipped from his hand onto the floor. Pierre stayed there, unmoving, stunned, overwhelmed, silent tears trickling from his eyes.  
  
“Pierre?” Chuck got off his chair and sank down to the bigger man’s level. “Pierre?”  
  
Pierre lifted his head -- it appeared to take a lot of effort as if it was too heavy for him -- and stared unseeingly at Chuck, speaking as if from a great distance. “The Prime Minister, and his wife, were assassinated late last night. They were both shot in the head.”  
  
Chuck gasped and rocked back on his heels. “Pierre?”  
  
Pierre shivered, blinking; anguish flooding into his deep brown eyes. “My brother’s dead, Chuck...he’s dead and all I did was complain about him. Fuck...” He buried his hands in his hair and swore harshly in Quebecois. “ _Tabernack_...ugh...” He moaned and dragged his fingers through his hair and over his face. Then dropped his hands and sighed. “At least I can make up for the lack of time he spent with Gabriel.”  
  
“How d’ya mean?”  
  
Pierre smiled sadly, looking at his best friend. “Gabriel’s coming here to live with me.” He tilted his head back. “Jay can’t take him...so he’s coming here to Laval.”  
  
Chuck shook his head uncertain how to react. “ _Jesus_.”  
  
Pierre groaned and flopped onto the floor on his back. “Exciting, eh? Just wait until I tell Pat.”  
  
“Tell him what?”  
  
Pierre smirked allowing himself a little bit of a chuckle, just to lighten his heart a little. God alone knew he needed it after the shock of that call. “That he and I are about to have our first child.”


	2. The angel and the rock god

_** ** _

_**Laval Train Station  
  
Sunday November 25th 2007  
  
11 AM**_  
  
A cold wind blew across the relatively deserted station platform. The only figures present were a large man dressed in a black business suit, and wearing a pair of dark shades and a small boy with a shock of white blonde hair.  
  
“Gabriel, be patient. Your uncle will be here soon.” The man spoke to the boy who was fidgeting with the ties of a pair of woollen gloves that he was wearing to keep the weather at bay. The boy muttered under his breath staring at the ground.  
  
Gabriel was not known for his patience. He was a quiet child, but he could be impatient without having to be noisy. Was very good at it actually. He had, of course, been brought up to be polite, neat, kind, generous; but his parents could never hope to instil a sense of patience in him. A Bouvier trait it was not.  
  
His father, Jonathan had always been known for his inability to sit still, always raring to go. And Gabriel knew that his Uncle Pierre was the same way.  
  
“Can’t wait...” The boy grumbled.  
  
The man’s face twisted in a semblance of a smile. He was a highly trained government agent and generally, he wasn’t easily amused. It wasn’t his place to be a comic act. He was there to guard the boy until he was safe in the hands of his guardian.  
  
Still, it was difficult not to smile around his young charge. “I was never patient when I was 8. But I learned. It comes in handy.”  
  
“Don’t want to learn...” Gabriel shuffled his feet. He wore a pair of black leather shoes, polished until they shone. They looked like the kind of shoes that an older man would wear, not a boy of eight years. The same could be said for the clothes he was wearing.  
  
A long sleeved shirt and suit jacket, trousers and tie. The bright yellow woollen gloves and scarf looked oddly out of place. Yet, it was a cold day and the agent wasn’t going to allow the boy to freeze before he had seen him safely into the care of his uncle.  
  
The agent sighed. “You will. One day.”  
  
Gabriel shook his head, adamant. “No. I won’t.”  
  
“Won’t what?”  
  
The agent and boy turned. Approaching them, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, was a young man with scruffy dark hair. He moved with the lean, casual grace of a large cat; deep brown eyes twinkling beneath long black lashes.  
  
“ _Tonton_  Pierre!” Gabriel rushed forward and tackled the big man.  
  
Pierre laughed, catching the boy’s small body in his arms and swinging him around before setting him back on the ground. “Hello, Gabe. What are you going on about?”  
  
The agent snorted. Pierre looked at him for the first time, dark eyes narrowing. The other man swallowed and straightened his back.  
  
“He doesn’t want to learn patience.”  
  
Pierre chuckled. “Ah. A Bouvier after my own heart.” He became serious then, his eyes hardening. "You have all his things?”  
  
The agent sensed the change in the young man and quickly passed him the two bags that contained the boy’s belongings. “This is all he has. Everything else in the house...Jason Bouvier is organising what’s to be done with them. He said...he says that he believes that Gabe is better off with you...but...I think you already knew that?”  
  
Pierre nodded, expression grave. “For security reasons. You don’t need to explain, I understand.” He glanced down at his nephew who was looking at the ground, scuffing his shoes. “He’s in good hands.”  
  
The agent tipped his fingers to his forehead and made to leave, but then paused and turned back. “There is one thing...”  
  
Pierre raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”  
  
“A silver pin. It has a small golden wreath at the head. If you find it amongst Gabriel’s belongings...would you send it back to Parliament House?”  
  
Pierre frowned, rubbing his jaw. “Is it a Prime Ministerial fixture?”  
  
The agent hesitated for a split second; in fact, to the untrained eye it would have been just a mere taking in of breath. “Yes. It needs to be presented to the acting PM.”  
  
Pierre nodded, not noticing as Gabriel stiffened beside him. “Of course.”  
  
“Good. Well, good day.” The agent saluted again, casting a quick smile at Gabriel before leaving without another word.  
  
Pierre stretched his back, feeling the muscles in his neck protest a little, before bending down to grab both bags and jerking his head at his nephew. “C’mon, we gotta run. Have to get to an interview.”  
  
Gabriel hung back a strained look flashing across his face.  
  
Pierre glanced at him and smiled, the action softening his expression. “It’s okay, Gabe...just a band interview for our new album. You don’t have to do anything.”  
  
Gabriel relaxed and trotted after his uncle to keep up.  
  
Pierre weaved through the rapidly growing crowd of people on the platform. The boy followed keeping his eyes locked on the light grey jacket that appeared to hang like a cape around his uncle’s powerful frame. Eventually they exited the train station and Pierre flagged down a car that was waiting at the kerb.  
  
Throwing the bags into the trunk, he opened the passenger door letting Gabriel scramble in.  
  
He climbed in after and leaned over the driver’s seat. “Pat, go. We’re gonna be late.”  
  
Gabriel blinked as the man in the front turned and whacked Pierre lightly over the head. “Fuck off, Bouvier. If you’d woken up earlier we wouldn’t have been late here...” Shaggy dark blonde hair fell into sardonic hazel-blue eyes as the man noticed Gabriel and grinned. “Kid, I gotta tell you, your uncle is one lazy ass.”  
  
Gabriel giggled.  
  
Pierre snarled. “Just drive.”  
  
Then he leaned back on the seat and crossed his arms. Patrick heaved a sigh and pulled away from the kerb. Gabriel quickly put on his seatbelt and stared out of the window as they left the train station behind them and sped through town.  
  
Pierre observed the boy sitting quietly gazing at the passing buildings. He was unsure how to start a conversation with his nephew. How did you have a normal conversation with a child who had lost both his parents in the worst manner possible?  
  
Pierre knew that Gabriel had to have been traumatised. He didn’t know the full details; he was yet to be filled in, hadn’t demanded anything, knowing he would find out soon. But Pierre did know that the killer had shot his brother and sister-in-law in front of the boy. That had to have affected him in a major way.  
  
Not that any affect was obvious, just yet. Gabe was holding up very well and the agent, who had called Pierre earlier in the week, had said he had been keeping to his usual routine as best as possible. Pierre was mindful he’d need to keep an eye on Gabriel in case something happened to change that.  
  
Uncrossing his arms, he fished in his back pocket for a stick of chewing gum.  
  
Popping a piece in his mouth, he then glanced at Gabriel, holding the stick of gum out to him. “Want some chewy?”  
  
The boy looked at him, wrinkling his nose. “That’s yuck.”  
  
Pierre smirked. “Smoking’s worse.”  
  
“Mommy said you used to smoke. She hated it.” Gabriel turned back to look out the window.  
  
His uncle scratched at his jaw, uncertain how to respond to that comment.  
  
Pat peeked back over his shoulder as he turned a corner, without indicating. “That’s why your uncle only chews gum, now.”  
  
Gabriel continued staring out of the car, not wanting to be drawn out. He may have been externally calm, adjusted, but on the inside, he was a very hurt and frightened little boy. He still saw images of what had happened to his mommy and daddy and it made him want to cry.  
  
However, he didn’t want to cry, not in front of his uncle. His daddy had always told him that big boys didn’t cry and he was a big boy. Not a baby. He didn’t want his Tonton Pierre thinking he was a baby.  
  
Pierre sighed and shook his head at his friend. Pat met his eyes in the rear vision mirror. A look passed between them, so much loaded in that one glance. Pierre looked away and gazed out his own window.  
  
Life had suddenly gotten a whole lot more complicated;  _and_  he was still coming to terms with his oldest brother’s death. Brutally torn from the world. Sure, Jonathan had been in a position of power and they were living in a time of high political unrest. What with the controversial decision of leaving troops in Iraq, even after his brother had deemed it improbable that the Canadian forces could make any real difference -- the US and Australian troops seemed to be keeping matters under control.  
  
And then the internal issues in the Canadian Government itself were a problem especially the continual push for Quebec to separate from the English speaking section of the nation. And then there were other strange goings on as well that Pierre wasn’t sure he understood.  
  
If one was pessimistic enough, one could surmise that an assassination was inevitable. However, none of this made it any easier for Pierre to handle, not withstanding the fact that Jon was his brother.  
  
Before the past weeks happenings, the most Pierre had to worry about was whether the band would make it in the highly competitive music industry. But now, he was the legal guardian of his nephew, the son of the assassinated Prime Minister of the nation.  
  
At 28, he didn’t know if he was ready for the responsibility. There was only one thing he was absolutely certain of. His trip to Las Vegas, earlier in the year, had been well worth it.  
  
Shifting his weight, tucking the stick of gum back into his pocket, he looked out the front windscreen. They’d arrived at the radio station and he could see Seb’s car parked out the front. Pat was already getting out, rushing inside to let the others know they had arrived.  
  
Pierre turned to Gabriel to find that the boy had fallen asleep. So, getting out he went around to the other side to open his door. Then after carefully undoing his seatbelt, he lifted his nephew in his arms and carried him inside.  
  
Unbeknownst to either of them, concealed in the shadows, a pair of eyes followed them into the building.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _Canadian Secret Service  
  
Head Quarters  
  
Quebec City  
  
12 PM_**  
  
Stark grey walls greeted CSS agent 78 as he made his way to The Captain’s office to make his report. Hurrying along the corridor, he spoke to no one as he clutched a file close to his chest. Halting outside a heavy wooden door near the very end of the hallway, he paused before lifting a hand to rap on the door, three times.  
  
“Enter.” The door swung open by itself.  
  
After adjusting his pistol holster, the agent stepped into the dimly lit office, saluting. “Captain.”  
  
The Captain looked up from several reports that were spread out on his desk. He had been a powerful man in his day. Broad shoulders filled out the grey shirt that he wore. His once muscled body had rounded from days spent behind a desk.  
  
Yet, he was still a formidable man and wore authority like a cloak. He narrowed his eyes at the young agent standing before him and rested his forearms on the edge of the desk.  
  
“The boy?”  
  
Agent 78 took a deep breath before responding. “He’s been moved, sir.”  
  
“Moved?” The Captain scowled, darkly. “Where?”  
  
The agent opened his file and pulled out several grainy black and white photographs setting them out on the desk. “To Laval...to live with...um, well. It looks like a civilian. The shots weren’t clear. I’m still waiting for clearer images from the FLYCam.”  
  
The Captain cast a cursory glance over them; he would look closer at them once the agent had left.  
  
He leaned back against his chair, the leather groaning in protest. “I want the boy, agent.”  
  
Agent 78 allowed a cold smile to play on his lips. “Don’t worry, sir. We will do everything in our power to bring him to you. Even if that means dealing directly with his civilian guardian.”  
  
The Captain grimaced. “If anyone comes to harm...”  
  
“We will be careful to leave no trace of our activities.”  
  
The Captain scratched his cheek and sighed heavily, coming to a decision. “Track the boy. When you deem the time is right...kill the civilian and bring the boy to me.”  
  
The agent saluted then turned to exit.  
  
“One more thing, agent.”  
  
Agent 78 turned back. “Sir?”  
  
“Find out as much as you can about the civilian before you take action. It would not do to find you had made a mistake about his position.”  
  
The young agent nodded and left, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.  
  
The Captain waited several long minutes before shifting the reports off his desk, revealing an aging document beneath. It had been written in the original Parisian French that had not been spoken in Quebec for over a hundred years. He gazed at the curling letters that had been penned by a French Monk and delicately traced a calloused fingertip over them.  
  
He was not a man who generally bought into the superstitious realm of ancient prophecies or even more contemporary, but when they were tied into the Church, he found that he had to be careful.  
  
He was a highly religious man and the writings on the document before him had him troubled. He had first read it nine years earlier and it had tugged at something in his moral and spiritual conscious.  
  
However, it wasn’t until Jonathan Bouvier became Prime Minister and the young man’s family had been thrown into the public eye that the writing had taken on any real significance. The prophecy was of a boy child who would be born of a man in power. And the child would be of  _L’Angelic_  stock.  
  
The Captain had not understood what that meant, so he had spoken to several theology experts and Church clergy and they had explained that in ancient times the  _L’Angel_  were believed to be the offspring of the Angels of Heaven. But, most importantly, that it was the Fallen Angel, Lucifer, who had fathered most of the  _L’Angelic_  progeny. Not directly, of course, but like the Virgin Birth had borne Jesus into the world, so Satan was able to spread his seed.  
  
The prophecy in question spoke of a child who would be born of Satan and would, somehow, sometime, bring about the end of the world. The Captain was somewhat sceptical, but he was also extremely wary.  
  
As a God-fearing man, he was not one to shirk from the possibility that he could fix the problem. And that was why he wanted the boy. Gabriel Bouvier fit the finer details outlined in the document and The Captain did not believe in coincidences.  
  
There was one part of the prophecy that worried him, though. There was reference to some form of pagan god referred to only as  _Le Pierre_. But he had never heard of any God of the Stone. Still, he was holding out hope that it was just a minor, legendary detail, insignificant and that would make no difference to the bigger picture.  
  
All he knew was that once he’d secured the safety of the nation’s, and the world’s, future, he was going to retire from service, find a lovely mountain chalet, and live the rest of his life in relative peace.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **Laval  
  
Old Warehouse  
  
3 PM**_  
  
It was warm and muggy in the old warehouse that the band had secured as their official rehearsal space. The six men and the little boy who had all been rugged up in various hoodies, coats, scarves and gloves had shed all those items as they entered the building.  
  
A pile of clothing lay heaped up in one corner of the large room. In the other, Patrick Langlois had set up his laptop and was aimlessly surfing the net whilst the band set up for rehearsal.  
  
Gabriel, who had shed his suit jacket and tie as well, sat next to him peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s that, _Oncle_  Pat?”  
  
Pierre had told his nephew that he could call them all  _Oncle_  ‘whoever’ because the guys in the band were like brothers to _him_. So, they might as well all be Gabe’s uncles.  
  
Pat smiled at the little boy, glancing at the site he’d just happened to click on. “Man of the Hour, Hour MySpace page.”  
  
“What’s Man of the Hour, Hour?”  
  
Pat scratched his cheek. “Well, that’s a long story, kid. But to make it shorter for you...Man of the Hour was originally a band...with me and Seb and a man from another band, Jaret. But that never really got off the ground.”  
  
Gabriel tilted his head. Pat went on. “One day, Seb and I decided we wanted to have an online radio show. Our good friend Tom from idobi.com decided he wanted to have us on his station. And the rest...as they say...is history.”  
  
Gabriel giggled. “Is it really an hour?”  
  
Pierre snorted as he approached from the middle of the warehouse, electric guitar slung over his shoulder. “It never hits an exact hour. It’s either shorter, or longer.”  
  
Pat glowered at his friend. “Well, you guys keep us so fucking busy.”  
  
Pierre growled warningly.  
  
Gabriel looked up at him. “Is okay,  _Tonton_  Pierre. I heard badder words at school.”  
  
“Yes, well...still.”  
  
Gabriel continued to look at his uncle. Pierre stared back sensing something emanating from the boy that he didn’t quite understand. He shook his head to shake the feeling off and smiled faintly. “Don’t want to make a bad impression...Jon wouldn’t approve...”  
  
Gabriel shuddered at the sound of his Daddy’s name and looked down at the floor, biting his bottom lip.  
  
Pat scowled. “Now look what you did, mentioning your brother like that.”  
  
Pierre just snorted again and stalked away without looking back. The boy’s shoulders shook slightly. Pat squeezed them gently. “It’s okay, kid...Pierre’s just being stupid.”  
  
Gabriel shook his head. “No,  _Oncle_  Pat... _Tonton_  Pierre is not stupid.” He glanced up at the man beside him, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes. “I miss my mommy and daddy...”  
  
Pat hugged the little boy gently then let go shifting back to his laptop. “Here, I’ll show you a cool game I like to play when I’m bored.”  
  
Meanwhile, at the other side of the warehouse, Chuck was sitting at his drum kit practising the beats for _When I’m Gone_. Pierre had joined him and was fiddling with the wireless attachment on his instrument. His best friend peered over the hi-hat at him.  
  
“What the hell was up with you at the radio station?”  
  
Pierre hitched the guitar on his hip, readjusting the strap. “What do you mean?”  
  
“The interview. You hardly said a word. And when you did, you weren’t making much sense.”  
  
Pierre shook his head, concentrating on tuning his guitar, turning the tuning pegs carefully. Chuck sighed and, gripping his sticks in one hand, ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
Throwing a sharp glance towards where Gabriel was now seated on Pat’s lap playing a game on his laptop, Chuck added tersely. “And what about your nephew? He’s not coming on tour with us, is he?”  
  
Their eyes locked. Pierre’s were cold. “Yeah, he’s coming with us.”  
  
Chuck groaned, bringing his foot down on the bass drum pedal. “Fuck...”  
  
Pierre’s jaw clenched, as he glared at him. “You don’t need to worry. He’s my responsibility, okay.”  
  
The other man grumbled. “As long as that doesn’t change...”  
  
Pierre blinked, then snarled angrily. “Fuck you, Charles.” He shifted his guitar and took a step toward the drum set. “Do you have any idea what Gabe’s been through?  _Fuck_. He fucking lost both his parents.” He paused then turned away staring into the distance. “Jon...”  
  
He halted unable to go on, breathing hard. Chuck shifted uncomfortably on his stool sensing that perhaps he’d overstepped the line.  
  
He opened his mouth in view of apologising -- to tell his friend he hadn’t really meant it, he just hadn’t been prepared etc, etc. Pierre noticed though and cut him off with one of those ‘looks’. His eyes were hard, his mouth drawn into a thin line, jaw set.  
  
Turning away, still with his guitar slung over his shoulder, the bigger man walked away. Back over to where his nephew and his boyfriend were playing Pac-man on Pat’s laptop.  
  
Patrick looked up at Pierre and tilted his head to one side. “Something up?”  
  
Pierre shook his head and sat next to him, removing his guitar, laying it on the floor. Pat moved slightly so he could reach over to rest a hand on Pierre’s shoulder, rubbing softly. The other man looked down at the floor, not in the mood to talk.  
  
Gabriel bounced on Pat’s lap and giggled. “ _Tonton_  Pierre, I won...see.”  
  
Pierre glanced up once. “That’s nice...” Then he looked back down.  
  
Gabriel frowned, an uncharacteristically mature expression for such a young boy. He climbed off Pat’s lap and crouched in front of his uncle. “ _Tonton_  Pierre?”  
  
Pierre trembled.  
  
Pat grimaced, and rubbed at his face. “Gabe...could you let me and your uncle talk for a moment?”  
  
The boy nodded slowly and drew back several feet, knowing that he’d be able to hear them anyway. From an early age, he’d found that somehow he was able to eavesdrop on people’s conversations, no matter how far away he was. He just had to concentrate every ounce of his being on the people in question. He couldn’t quite figure out how that was possible, but he found that it was useful.  
  
Pat waited until he thought Gabriel was out of earshot then turned to lean close to Pierre, draping an arm round his shoulders. “Baby...what’s wrong?”  
  
Pierre groaned and turned slightly so he could lean into Pat’s body. “Life’s so fucking unfair, Pat...”  
  
Pat stroked a hand through his boyfriend’s shaggy hair. “Tell me about it, man...”  
  
“Everything was going so good, y’know...and then...all this shit had to happen.” Pat remained quiet letting Pierre get everything out of him. “Why...why would someone kill Jonathan...why, Pat? You tell me that...is it because he’s Prime Minister...or was it just random? God...Pat...why my brother?”  
  
“I don’t know, baby...” Pat rubbed his back gently.  
  
Pierre shook a little; head bowed his hair hiding his face. “And now...we have to go on tour...and bring a little kid with us. I mean, how the fuck is that supposed to work?”  
  
“You’ll figure it out.”  
  
Pierre lifted his head and blinked. “I guess I will. I always do, right?”  
  
Pat smiled, running a finger down Pierre’s tattooed arm. “Yeah, you do.”  
  
The bigger man shivered at the contact and pulled away, muttering. “Not in front of Gabe...”  
  
Pat laughed softly and stood, holding his hand out to Pierre. He grasped it and let himself be pulled up.  
  
As he stood, a thought came to him. He shot a sharp glance at Pat. “Any chance you could spread out the timing between our gigs.”  
  
His friend scowled. “No. We’re spread out as far as possible as is.”  
  
“Shit.” Pierre groaned and rolled his head on his shoulders, then looked over at Gabriel who was staring at them with a quizzical expression in his eyes. “Yah, Gabe?”  
  
His nephew scrambled to his feet and looked between them looking confused. He’d obviously heard more of their conversation than either man had thought; either that or he’d seen the way they were acting toward each other.  
  
“What is it, kid?” Pat smiled at the boy, peeking at Pierre from the corner of his eyes. The older man was maintaining an innocent expression, revealing nothing.  
  
Gabriel straightened then blurted out quickly, voice sounding surprised. “Daddy never said you were...gay,  _Tonton_  Pierre.”  
  
Pierre was quick, smirking. “That’s because I’m not. I’m bi.”  
  
His nephew scrunched up his face, the information apparently too much for his 8 year old brain to handle.  
  
Pat chuckled. “It means that he likes chicks. But sometimes he likes guys.”  
  
“No. It means I like girls. And I love  _you_ , Patrick.”  
  
The two men were looking at each other now. Cue the angels... Gabriel actually giggled. Then he stopped, half-closed his eyes and saw something flowing between the two men, a soft silver light that appeared to connect them.  
  
He shook his head and blinked hard, rubbing at his eyes. Lately he’d been seeing weird things like glowing lights and what looked like auras around people’s bodies -- in fact he could see these auras around Pierre and Pat now: his uncle’s was golden with flickers of red; Pat’s was a soft aqua blue.  
  
He couldn’t understand what those were; it didn’t worry him...but at the same time, he just wished he could be a normal kid. Because, at school that kind of thing was what made kids targets for bullies. Difference.  
  
He shook his head again and glanced at his uncle and Pat again. The light had disappeared and they looked normal again. They were still looking at each other.  
  
“ _Tonton_  Pierre...” Gabriel yawned, then heard his stomach rumble. “I’m hungry...”  
  
Pierre dragged his eyes away from Pat’s electric gaze and looked at his nephew. “Huh, what’s that? You’re hungry?”  
  
Gabriel nodded. Pierre stretched.  
  
Pat slapped him lightly on the back. “Well, I’m hungry too, babe. Gonna go round and ask if everyone else is...” He looked at Gabe. “What do you want?”  
  
Gabriel grinned. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”  
  
“You’re easy.” Pierre smiled at his nephew then looked at Pat. “I’ll have the same, actually.”  
  
Pat snorted. “You’re the one who’s ‘easy’.” He winked at him then.  
  
Pierre chuckled at the double  _entendre_  and shoved at the other man. “Piss off, Langlois.”  
  
Patrick just laughed, swung around and strode off to go and see the rest of the band.  
  
Pierre turned to his nephew. “Come on. Time for a break, then we’ll play a whole song for you.”  
  
Gabriel chucked his head to the side then ran and jumped on Pierre’s back, wrapping his arms round his uncle’s neck. “Piggyback...”  
  
Laughing, Pierre hooked his arms under Gabriel’s legs and carried him around as the little boy let loose with cries of delight. The sound was filled with hope and joy: Two things that had been seriously lacking in Gabriel’s current world for the past week.  
  
Smiling to himself, Pierre allowed his nephew to steer him around the large warehouse as they waited for Pat to return with the band’s afternoon meals. After all, no matter how hectic their schedule, there was always time for some fun.


	3. Tiger in the shadows

_**Monday November 26th 2007  
  
Toronto  
  
Parliament House  
  
9 AM**_  
  
Lieutenant-Colonel Jason Charles Bouvier stood on the large sprawling veranda of Parliament House. Glancing up at the sky he frowned at the dark clouds that masked the morning sunlight. He sensed something off about the cloud cover, as if it were not quite natural. Still the chill air was normal for a day late in November.  
  
Rubbing his hands together, warming them, Jason glanced down toward the large winding driveway. A long silver limousine was crawling its way up the concrete driveway. Small twin Canadian flags adorned the gleaming bonnet.  
  
Frowning, the Lt-Col watched as the limo came to a stop at the bottom of the steps.  _Who the hell..._  
  
“Jason?”  
  
 _Maman_... Jason took the steps two at a time to greet the woman who stepped out of the car. Long greying hair was swept back into a modest do; dark brown eyes twinkled in a warm motherly face.  
  
“My son...” Louise Bouvier embraced him. She was trembling.  
  
Jason squeezed her lightly. “ _Maman_ , what are you doing here?”  
  
“I had to come and see you...as soon as I heard about Jon, I had to come down...” Her breath hitched and she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Does Pierre know?”  
  
Jason nodded slowly. “Gabe’s with him, in Laval.”  
  
“Oh, thank goodness. That boy...he loves him.”  
  
Her second eldest son chuckled. “Which boy loves who?”  
  
Louise managed a soft laugh. “Pierre loves Gabe. He’ll be good to him.”  
  
Jason tilted his head. “And, I wouldn’t?”  
  
“Jay, you know that is not what I meant.”  
  
He smiled hugging her again. “I know,  _Maman_. And I wouldn’t be able to have Gabe anyway, too much of a risk.” He released Louise and turned to lead her inside. “How did you know I’d be here today?”  
  
Louise cast her eyes up and down the sprawling veranda. “I telephoned before I left. Caught the fastest flight here.” She let out a slow breath as they entered the front hall. “I’ll be flying back to Laval this evening to catch up with your brother and his friends before they leave on tour.”  
  
Jason smiled and motioned her to enter his office in a small antechamber off the main hall. “He looking forward to getting back into the swing of things?”  
  
His mother shrugged. “I’m guessing so. At least it will help keep his mind off.” She stopped before finishing her sentence. There was no need.  
  
He nodded in understanding as he walked over to his desk and perched on top of it. Louise sat on one of the chairs close by and wiped at her eyes again.  
  
“So, son...how much do you know about...?”  
  
Jason shook his head. “ _Maman_ , even if I knew you know I wouldn’t be permitted to tell you. He was Prime Minister and until the investigation is complete it’s classified.”  
  
“Even to family?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Louise trembled. “Have you any idea?”  
  
Jason sighed. “No,  _Maman_. It’s a mystery. We can’t figure out why something like this would happen. But assassinations are often like that.”  
  
She breathed in sharply.  
  
He grimaced realising he’d already said too much. “Forget I said that.”  
  
“No...they were...assassinated...I thought...” she shook her head.  
  
Jason ran his fingers through his short dark hair. “It’s looking that way. They were prominent public figures.” He paused. “Pierre was told as much.”  
  
Jason wasn’t going to tell his mother that he was planning to tell Pierre everything the Department of National Protection (DNP) knew. And not just so he could protect Gabriel better if he knew -- because that was indeed what Pierre was actually doing -- but for an even deeper, more complex reason. A completely confidential issue. One that no one outside the DNP was allowed to know about - an ancient prophesy, of sorts.  
  
There was an exception though, the national Church body, which was presided over by the Religious faction of the government known only as the  _L’Angelic_  Division (LAD), also knew of the particular issue possibly surrounding Jonathan and Angela’s deaths.  
  
Jason shook his head. Even thinking about the issue was dangerous. God alone knew who could be watching them.  
  
He scratched his knee through his trouser leg as he looked at his mother. “Going to do some shopping whilst your here?”  
  
Louise smiled. “I need to get Christmas gifts for everyone. You will be coming home for Christmas?”  
  
Jason nodded. “Pierre told me they’d be back from their rapid fire promo tour in time for him to spend Christmas Day with us, as well.”  
  
“When did you speak with him?”  
  
“Last night. He called me after he got home from rehearsal.”  
  
Louise bit her bottom lip. “How did he sound?”  
  
Jason smirked. “His usual chipper self,  _Maman_. He seems to be holding up considering. And he says that Gabe is a little angel.”  
  
She relaxed. “Well, I guess I’ll see for myself when I get home tonight.”  
  
Jason nodded and then frowned as the phone on his desk began to chime. It was from the Acting Prime Minister’s personal line. “I need to take this call, talk to you after?”  
  
Louise nodded and rose to her feet. “Is there anywhere I can grab a coffee?”  
  
Jason leaned over and rang a small bell. The door opened and a secretary peered around the door.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Julie, could you show my mother where she can get some refreshments.”  
  
“Of course, sir. Mrs Bouvier, won’t you come with me?”  
  
Louise smiled and nodded her thanks following the young woman out of the office.  
  
Jason turned to the phone and switched it onto speakerphone. “Good morning, Your Honour, any news?”  
  
 _“Jason, you young bastard it’s me, Jamieson Granger.”_  
  
“Jamie? Jesus, they’ve made you acting PM?”  
  
 _“Oui, it’s a bit of a strain I can tell you.”_  
  
“Where the hell are you, Granger? You should be here, at PH.”  
  
 _“I’m taking my morning constitutional.”_  
  
“Hah, you’re a bit young to be calling it that.” Jason sank into his leather swivel chair and rocked back, toying with the buckle of his belt.  
  
 _“Whatever, I’m only ten years older than you. You wanted news? Well, I have some. Call your brother. He’s in danger. I got an interesting memo from the CSS, by accident of course.”_  
  
Jason stiffened. “What do you mean Pierre’s in danger?”  
  
 _“Hear me out young friend. The Captain of the CSS wants your nephew. It’s all tied into that prophecy that the LAD has been attempting to figure out. Apparently, the CSS have secured the original documents. And that is a problem. The Captain has employed one of his agents as an assassin -- maybe the same agent who killed Jonathan and Angela -- he has been ordered to find your nephew...and kill his guardian. And I assume that is your younger brother.”_  
  
The hairs on the back of Jason’s neck rose. “ _Merde_...I’ll have to contact him somehow...calling him directly would be too dangerous.”  
  
 _“Perhaps. By the way, do you know what your brother was doing in Las Vegas, earlier this year?”_  
  
Jason frowned. “No. I didn’t even know he left Montreal. I mean apart from going to Los Angeles to record some of the band’s new album.”  
  
 _“Well, apparently an agent from the LAD met him in Las Vegas.”_  
  
“Really? I’ll have to ask him about that.”  
  
 _“I think there’s a lot more to your brother than meets the eye...you should entrust him with all the classified information...”_  
  
Jason swivelled to look out of the window at the darkening clouds that were slowly rolling across the sky. They appeared to have taken on a reddish tinge. “I was thinking of doing that.”  
  
 _“Good. Well, I’ll see you in an hour, Lt-Col. Get my message to your brother.”_  
  
Jason nodded even though the acting Prime Minister couldn’t see him. “Will do, your Honour. Enjoy the rest of your walk.” He hung up the call and remained gazing out the window, brooding as a rumble of thunder echoed in the sky. Jason shivered and squeezed the armrests, muttering to himself. “There’s going to be one hell of a storm...”  
  
Then he picked up the phone and dialled Chuck Comeau’s number.  
  
 ** _Laval  
  
Pierre’s Apartment  
  
9:45 AM_**  
  
Gabriel sat at the foot of his bed staring at a piece of string on the floor. He was squinting slightly, concentrating on the tiny piece of material, watching as the very end lifted off the floor. After a moment, the whole length of thread began to float up into the air.  
  
Gabriel felt a surge of victory in his heart and smiled a little as it hovered above the floor. He kept his eye locked on the piece of string, so closely he swore he could see the individual fibres.  
  
“Gabe. What the hell?”  
  
The string instantly dropped as his concentration was diverted by his uncle’s voice. Gabriel looked toward the doorway. Pierre stood there, grasping each side of the doorframe a stunned look on his face.  
  
“ _Tonton_  Pierre?”  
  
Pierre shook his head and smeared a hand over his face. Gabriel squinted at him, tilting his head to the side. He could see the aura around his uncle’s body easier if he looked ‘just so’. The red flickers had grown to long red ribbons that streaked through the more expansive golden glow.  
  
“What...what were you just doing?”  
  
Gabriel wiggled his toes and looked down. “Nothing.”  
  
“Really. It looked like that string was...uh...” He paused, not really sure what he’d just seen.  
  
Gabriel nodded toward the bedroom window. It was open and a cold breeze was blowing through. Pierre heaved a sigh and laughed feeling a little stupid. He walked over to shut the window and then moved to sit next to his nephew.  
  
“Time you got up. We have to organise a tutor to come with us on tour. Can’t let you get behind in school.”  
  
Gabriel groaned as only a little kid could. “But  _Tonton_  Pierre, I don’t like school. Can’t I just have fun...have a long holiday?”  
  
Pierre looked at him with an expression on his face that reminded him of his father. “We get Christmas off. So, do you. And it’s not like we’re sending you to school. We’re getting someone who will go through some schoolwork with you for a couple of hours a day. Probably when we’re busy doing interviews and such. It can get really boring waiting for us.”  
  
Gabriel looked at his feet, tugging gently at his toes. “Well, I guess it’s okay then...”  
  
Pierre smiled patting him on the shoulder. “Buck up, kid. We’ll have lots of fun as well. Promise.”  
  
His nephew looked at him for a long minute then glanced at the art on his left arm. “Did that hurt,  _Tonton_  Pierre?”  
  
“This?” Pierre lifted his arm. “Yeah. It did. But I was a big brave boy.” He reached over and gently ruffled Gabriel’s hair. “Just like you.”  
  
Gabriel looked down again and muttered. “Me not brave...”  
  
Pierre sighed. “Course you are. You’re a Bouvier.”  
  
The little boy shook slightly then peeked up at his uncle. “My Daddy was brave...but...but...he...” Gabriel’s voice faltered and he hunched up his shoulders and finally it was as if a floodgate deep inside him broke. He began to sob, flinging his arms around Pierre’s neck, hanging on as he cried. Pierre just held him, patting his back gently making soft crooning noises.  
  
After awhile Gabriel eventually calmed down and sat back wiping his arm over his eyes. He breathed deeply until he was completely calm again.  
  
“Hey, did you find that silver pin while you were unpacking?” Pierre leaned back against the bed.  
  
Gabriel felt a tingling at the back of his neck and wriggled about on the covers. “Why do they need it anyway?”  
  
“Gabe.” His uncle lifted an eyebrow. “You found it. Didn’t you.”  
  
Gabriel nodded slightly but then blurted out. “It doesn’t belong to them. Daddy gave it to me.”  
  
Pierre sighed wearily, “Kid. It belongs to whoever’s Prime Minister. You’d better give it to me so I can send it off to Toronto.”  
  
“ _Tonton_  Pierre, that man...who brought me to Laval...he’s wrong. It’s mine.”  
  
“Gabriel.”  
  
“No. It’s got my name on it.”  
  
Pierre blinked. “Your name?”  
  
Gabriel nodded again and slipped his hand into his pyjama bottom pocket pulling out the small silver pin and handing it over to his uncle. Pierre frowned holding it in the palm of his hand. It was tiny; the golden wreath on top was barely the size of a grass seed.  
  
“How can you tell?”  
  
Gabriel swallowed and looked down knowing that Pierre wouldn’t understand. He shook his head.  
  
“Gabriel. Where is your name on this? How can you see? It’s so...small.” Pierre stooped his head and peered into his nephew’s bright blue eyes. “Gabe?”  
  
Gabriel took a deep breath, wondering whether he should show him.  _Oh...just do it, G...it’ll be just like seeing the string..._  He sighed as only an 8 year old could and took the pin from his uncle’s hand and held it out in his own palm. “Watch...”  
  
Pierre frowned, confused.  _What the...?_  His eyes widened as the pin began to glow in the palm of Gabriel’s hand. And then it began to float and grow.  _Holy merciful mother!_  Pierre backed away up the bed, eyes wide; sweat beginning to trickle down his back, an unearthly tingle racing down his spine.  _Holy fuck...what is that??_  He stared at his nephew and blinked seeing something he had never seen before. There was something, like a light shining around his little body, bright, white.  
  
“Shit...” He shielded his eyes. “Gabe...Gabe?”  
  
Gabriel held his breath, not answering watching as the pin grew into a long silver staff, the wreath growing with a shining blue star at its centre. Pierre grabbed at the bed head and trembled feeling that he was in the presence of something with a lot of power.  
  
“Gabe...” His voice was a mere whisper.  
  
His nephew turned to look at him. “ _Tonton_  Pierre...it’s okay...”  
  
He held the staff out to him. The aura around him had lessened and Pierre hesitantly moved forward and reached out to touch the staff. It was cool, smooth to the touch. He weighed it in his hand; it was light.  
  
“Shit,” he repeated quietly. “How?”  
  
Gabriel shook his head, shrugging his little shoulders. “I was just mucking around with it.” He pointed. “Look on the side...there...my name.”  
  
Pierre held it up close to his eyes and blinked. There engraved deep into the staff in curling letters was printed a name: _Gabriel_.  
  
“Fuck.” Pierre groaned and flopped back on the bed. “That string...before?”  
  
Gabriel giggled. “That was me, too.”  
  
“Damn...I have a magician living with me.”  
  
His nephew scoffed. “No such things as magicians. Wizards...witches...sorcerers...angels. But not magicians.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “Angels? Stop talking like that. You’re only eight.” He rubbed his eyes. “What was that...white light around you.”  
  
Gabriel looked surprised. “You saw my aura?”  
  
“Aura?”  
  
“Yeah, everyone has them...I can see them.”  
  
Pierre shivered.  _Unbelievable. Can’t be true...but then I can hardly say that..._  “Uh...what does mine look like?”  
  
Gabriel squinted at him. “ _Tonton_  Pierre, you don’t believe me.”  
  
“Kid, you just...just did that...” he waved his hand at the staff that was once a pin, “in front of me. Try me.”  
  
“Golden...with bits of red.”  
  
Pierre screwed up his face. "What does that mean?”  
  
Gabriel shrugged. “I see them. Don’t know what it means.” He grinned. “ _Oncle_  Pat’s is blue. Like the sea in summer.” He decided he wouldn’t tell him about the silver light connecting them. That was probably too personal to mention.  
  
“Jeeze...did...did Jon know you could...y’know?”  
  
Gabriel shook his head. “No. Mommy and Daddy didn’t know. I didn’t want to tell them...because being different is bad.”  
  
Pierre scowled. “Who told you that?”  
  
“Nobody...you just learn it at school. The bullies...”  
  
“Oh. Yeah. I got picked on at school.”  
  
Gabriel looked sceptical. “You never...”  
  
Pierre chuckled. “Oh, I did. I wasn’t very popular.”  
  
“You are now. And famous.”  
  
Pierre smiled. “Yeah, so let that be a lesson for you, kid. Being different can be very good. Now.” He stood and brushed at his knees. “Breakfast. And, Gabe...I don’t think we should tell anyone about this.” He glanced at the long staff. “You should maybe...”  
  
Gabriel giggled and with a sudden flash of light, the staff became a pin once more. He picked it up and handed it to his uncle. “You keep it...maybe you can get a copy made...like mommy got a copy of her wedding ring. Then you can give the copy to them people at Parliament House, right?”  
  
Pierre frowned, taking the pin, holding it gingerly in his hand. “How am I supposed to get this copied? It probably won’t work...”  
  
Gabriel just shrugged at him. He wasn’t going to tell his uncle that he had a feeling that he would figure out a better way to deal with the silver pin issue. Because the boy knew that, there was more to his uncle than even his uncle realised.  
  
He bounced off the bed. “Can we have pancakes?”  
  
“Sure thing. Then after that we can find you a tutor.” Pierre walked out of the room laughing as Gabriel yelled at him from behind.  
  
“No! I don’t want a tutor! That’s so unfair!”  
  
 _ **Jeff’s Apartment  
  
10 AM**_  
  
Pat leaned forward on a chair, grim expression on his face. “Tell us again what Jason said, Chuck...you can’t be serious?”  
  
Chuck spread his hands out in front of him the expression on his face as grave as his friend’s. Jeff, David and Sebastien sat around the small kitchen wherever they could find, listening.  
  
“He said that Pierre was in danger, and that it has something to do with his nephew. That was all he told me.” Chuck closed his mouth tightly after he’d said that. Because he’d just told a little white lie: Jason had told him more than that but had made him swear he would not breathe a word to another soul, except for Pierre. He couldn’t even tell Pat, and that bothered him, a lot.  
  
“So? What are you saying?” Pat grimaced, but kept his agitation to a minimum. He did not want the others to see how worried he really was.  
  
Chuck sighed casting his gaze around at his friends. “We have to leave earlier than we planned. We were going to leave the day after tomorrow. But I’ve changed the flights to this afternoon. And instead of starting in Brazil, we’re heading for Japan first. I know that’ll screw up our schedule, but we have no choice.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I have to call Pierre. And. We’re bringing Gabriel with us.”  
  
Pat glared at Chuck. “Of course we’re bringing him.”  
  
Chuck looked at him. “What?”  
  
Pat stood up and began to pace. “I know what you said to Pierre.”  
  
The drummer sighed. “I was wrong to say any of that. And Jason’s call changes everything. We have to get them both out of the country.”  
  
David who had managed to remain silent suddenly spoke, his voice quivering with an almost hysterical excitement. “This is like something from a James Bond movie. All this sneaking around...and everything.”  
  
Chuck managed a tight smile. “Glad someone finds this amusing.”  
  
Pat smiled suddenly. “If we treat it like that, we can keep the morale up. Too depressing otherwise.”  
  
“Yeah, and Chuck can be M.” David bounced.  
  
Jeff laughed. “And you’re James Bond?”  
  
“Nah. That’d be Pierre.”  
  
Pat growled low in his throat. “Too right. And he’s my sexy agent.”  
  
The others all groaned and shook their heads.  
  
Chuck snorted and stood. “Right, I’m going to call Pierre...you others...better start, and finish, packing for tour.” He looked pointedly at David who just gave him a ‘who me?’ look. Shaking his head, Chuck turned and walked out of the room, pulling his phone from his pocket and flipping it open as he disappeared from view.  
  
As soon as he’d gone, Pat swung around and let out a small moan. “Fuck...all this shit...why does it have to happen now?”  
  
Seb got up and walked over to pat him gently on the back. “It’ll be okay, man. Nothing will happen to Pierre...we won’t let it.”  
  
Pat laughed harshly. “He doesn’t need this...he’s already lost his brother...”  
  
The others just looked at each other uncertain of what to say or do.  
  
Jeff finally said, softly, “Maybe you should just go over to Pierre’s. We’ll see you this afternoon at the airport.”  
  
Nodding, Pat grabbed his keys and headed for the door.  
  
 ** _Pierre’s Apartment  
  
10:30 AM_**  
  
“Change of plans, Gabe. We’re leaving this afternoon. So, we have to go see about a tutor now.”  
  
Gabriel looked up at Pierre as he walked back into the kitchen from his bedroom. “Why are we leaving this afternoon?”  
  
Pierre frowned slightly. His nephew stared back at him squinting. Pierre’s aura had turned a deep red only a hint of gold showing at the edges. Gabriel shuddered. Something was wrong he could feel it.  
  
“Chuck called me. Said he’d had to change our flights.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Pierre shook his head. “Gabe. Just go and get dressed.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Pierre chuckled. “You can’t find a tutor in your PJ’s.”  
  
“I don’t want a tutor.”  
  
“Gabriel Charles Bouvier.”  
  
Gabriel kicked his leg against the stool he was sitting on. “You’re not my daddy...you can’t tell me what to do.”  
  
Pierre sighed deeply and moved to sit next to him. “You’re right. I’m not Jon. But. I’m trying kid, so cut your  _Tonton_ Pierre a little slack, ‘kay?”  
  
Gabriel cast a sheepish look at him. “Sorry,  _Tonton_  Pierre.”  
  
“I’ll get you a bagel on the way...?”  
  
The little boy nodded and slid off his stool racing to his room to get ready.  
  
Pierre moaned softly and leaned his forehead on his arms. “Fuck...what am I going to do now?”  
  
Chuck’s call had shaken him to the core. What he’d told him -- the real reason for why the flight had been changed -- sounded unbelievable. Why the fuck would the Canadian Secret Service want to hurt him to get to Gabriel. How could his nephew be so important? He didn’t understand. If only Jason would call him to explain.  
  
His second eldest brother always had the answers, particularly when agencies such as the CSS were involved. He placed his hand on his back pocket to make sure his cell was still there. The reassuring solidness of his phone calmed him a little and he swung around on his stool and tilted his head back.  
  
A thought came to him. Perhaps it had something to do with the strange things Gabe had shown him earlier that morning. But then again, who the hell would know about that? His brother hadn’t even known. Pierre rubbed at his face.  
  
 _Tabernack, he’s only been here one night and already it’s getting even more complicated ugh...I can’t wait to get on tour...at least that’s the kind of chaos I can handle._  
  
Gabriel reappeared after several moments, wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeved top with a bright green hoodie over the top.  
  
Pierre pushed away from the kitchen bench and grabbed his keys. “C’mon, let’s go.”  
  
Before man or boy could move to the front door, though, it burst open and Pat came skidding through the doorway almost colliding with the coat stand. “ _Merde!_  Bouvier. Why the fuck do you leave this shit lying around everywhere?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “It’s a coat stand and it’s not lying around. It’s always been there. Now, where’s the fire?”  
  
Gabriel tilted his head.  
  
Pat grumbled dusting his knees off. “We have to pack.”  
  
“I know. But first, Gabe and I have to find a tutor for him while we’re on tour.”  
  
Pat shook his head. “No time. The flight’s been changed, again.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Yeah, we have to be at the airport in twenty minutes.”  
  
Pierre growled. “What the fuck?”  
  
Pat breathed hard. “Your brother called again.”  
  
“Why the fuck doesn’t he call here.”  
  
“You’re being watched. We have to get you out of here.”  
  
“We?” Pierre started to ask but then stopped as the front door slid open again, only a fraction, as a young woman slipped through sideways and glanced warily around the entrance way. Long blonde hair framed a heart shaped face and soft mauve eyes glittered warily.  
  
Pierre blinked. “Who?” Then he stopped realising he’d seen her somewhere before.  
  
He couldn’t for the life of him figure out where, but he knew he’d met her some place before. The woman held a finger up to her lips. Then peered around, heading down the hallway and poking her head into the kitchen then coming back looking about her. Gabriel watched her, head tilted to the side.  
  
Pat rubbed his face. “It’s okay, Anna...there’s only them here.”  
  
“That as may be. But, you never know who could be hiding in a place like this. My father is a resourceful man.”  
  
Pierre frowned, a bemused look in his eyes. “Who are you?”  
  
The woman finally met his gaze. “My name is Annalise, but you should already know that, we met in Las Vegas.”  
  
A light flickered in Pierre’s mind then he smiled faintly. “LAD.”  
  
Pat scowled; now he was the confused one. “You never said you’d met Pierre before.”  
  
Annalise turned to him. “I couldn’t. Not before I knew if he could confirm it.”  
  
Pat muttered, “This is getting real weird.”  
  
“Perhaps, but your friends are waiting for you at the airport. We have to leave, now.”  
  
Pierre rubbed his face and sighed. “I haven’t finished packing.”  
  
“Ah, no problem. Where are your bags?”  
  
“Uh...living room...”  
  
Pierre blinked as she just vanished in front of his eyes. “Shit...”  
  
Pat snorted. “That’s not half of what she can do. She just appeared in front of me when I was leaving Jeff’s. She told me I was about to get a call from your brother. And then at the same time Jason called  _me_  to tell me to change the flight, again.”  
  
“Jesus Christ...” He shook his head then laughed inwardly.  _Well, we’ve both seen strange things today..._  
  
Gabriel piped up then. “ _Tonton_  Pierre, what’s LAD?”  
  
Pierre hesitated before responding, this was something he had never mentioned to anyone ever. He knew that Jason knew of the LAD but only because he worked for the government.  
  
“LAD stands for  _L’Angelic_  Division. It’s a religious department of the government.”  
  
Pat blinked. “How do you know that? Wait...don’t tell me...Annalise. Fuck, what the hell were you really doing in Las Vegas?”  
  
Pierre shook his head again. That was one thing he couldn’t talk about. Personally he still didn’t quite understand himself what he’d been doing -- even though he felt that it had all been worth it -- but he had an inkling now of what it had all meant.  
  
Perhaps that’s why he hadn’t freaked out too much when Gabriel had done that...thing with the silver pin.  
  
Maybe  _that_  was tied in with LAD. He groaned inaudibly and muttered not quite under his breath. "Fuck...I don’t need this...”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “Neither do any of us.”  
  
The young woman reappeared then with Pierre and Gabriel’s bags. “All packed.”  
  
Pierre frowned. “What did you put in there?”  
  
Annalise looked back at him, face serene. “You can check them if you like.”  
  
“No time,” Pat said.  
  
The woman smiled. “He doesn’t have to open them.”  
  
Pierre blinked, looking confused. “How else am I supposed to see what you put in there?”  
  
She turned her stunning purple stare to the bigger man and said, cryptically, “The tiger always knows what is his and what is not, just by the smell alone.”  
  
She walked up to him and tapped a finger close to his heart, then the bridge of his nose and lastly his forehead.  
  
He felt a chill run up his spine. “What?”  
  
Annalise smiled secretively then glanced at Gabriel who had been hovering in the background, feeling a little shy of the beautiful woman with purple eyes. “Young Gabriel knows what I mean, don’t you?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “He’s only 8. What does he know?”  
  
Pat agreed. “Yeah...what could he know?”  
  
Annalise shook her head. “No time. We need to leave.” She swung around and exited the apartment, long blonde hair billowing out behind her.  
  
Pat glanced at Pierre, eyebrows arched. “That’s what I just said.”  
  
Pierre patted him on the shoulder then slid his hand up to squeeze gently at the back of his neck. “I know. Don’t worry about it. She’s just used to being in charge.” After he had said that he realised he’d no idea why that had even surfaced in his mind.  
  
Pat scowled. “You seem to know her very well.”  
  
Gabriel looked between his uncle and his uncle’s partner; he could sense the tension between them, could see the silvery connection of light waver unsteadily between them. “ _Tonton_  Pierre... _Oncle_  Pat...come on...we gotta go like the lady just said.”  
  
Pierre dropped his hand from Pat’s neck not responding to his accusation as he grabbed the bags and left the apartment. Grumbling, Pat followed, ushering Gabriel ahead of him as he locked the door behind him and pocketed the keys.


	4. Revelations

_**Monday November 26th 2007  
  
CSS HQ  
  
Noon**_  
  
Agent 78 stood in front of a large whiteboard placing high-quality photos up where all the agents, and The Captain, had a clear view.  
  
Indicating the first image, which he had found online, the agent spoke. “This is Pierre Charles Bouvier, 28; frontman of the internationally renowned Montreal-based band Simple Plan. He is around 5 ft 11 inches tall and his most distinguishing feature is the sleeve tattoo on his left arm.” He nodded at The Captain. “He is the civilian that is guarding the child.” The agent paused before adding, “Pierre is actually the boy’s uncle.”  
  
“What?” The Captain stood.  
  
The agent held up his hand. “The civilian is the late Prime Minister’s youngest brother.”  
  
The Captain took a deep breath and let it out slowly, controlling his temper. “Where are they now?”  
  
“On a plane to Japan. I will be leaving in an hour on a chartered express flight; I will arrive in Japan before they do. They will be staying there for three nights before leaving for Singapore.”  
  
One of the other agents called out hesitantly. “Shouldn’t the civilian be taken out before he gets a chance to leave with the boy?”  
  
Agent 78 sniffed in disdain. “I shall follow them until the time is right. I need to find out more about Mr Bouvier before I take any further action.”  
  
“Just remember, I want the boy, alive.” The Captain stared at the image of Pierre that hung on the centre of the whiteboard. “You remember what I told you, agent 78.”  
  
“Yes sir.”  
  
“Very well. You are all dismissed.” He looked to agent 78. “Report to me when you are ready to leave.”  
  
The agent saluted and left to prepare for his journey. Sighing deeply, The Captain turned to stare at the photo on the whiteboard once more. Dark chocolate brown eyes twinkled out of a strong face. Dark hair was styled in the fashion that a lot of young men of the current day wore their hair - longish with the fringe swept to one side. There was a faint shadow of stubble across his top lip and jaw giving him a rugged appearance.  
  
The young man’s face seemed entirely open and honest, revealing no hidden secrets. And as far as The Captain was concerned, that was the best thing he could ever have hoped for. This would indeed be an easy task for the CSS to complete. He grinned wolfishly and moved back to his office to wait for his agent to report to him.  
  
 _ **Republic of the World Air Space  
  
JAL Flight 1005 to Tokyo  
  
2:15 PM**_  
  
“So, you saw your nephew’s aura. That’s something.”  
  
Annalise had secured a seat next to Pierre for the long flight to Japan, much to Pat’s annoyance. It had taken a lot of persuasion, and reassurance, from Pierre that it was only because he needed to talk to her about the things that were happening, before Pat relented. Chuck had helped a little by telling him he needed to go over the schedule with him.  
  
So, Annalise was now sitting between Pierre and Gabriel, who was seated at the window and was staring out at the fluffy white clouds, counting them.  
  
Pierre leaned his head against the back of his chair. “Yeah, only for a moment though. He...told me what mine looked like. He couldn’t tell me what it meant though.”  
  
The young woman smiled. “Your aura is the essence of your being. That along with your soul. Together they reflect your personality and state of mind.” She paused. “If you don’t mind my asking, what colour is yours?”  
  
“Can’t you see them?”  
  
She shook her head. “It takes me a lot of effort.”  
  
Pierre glanced at his nephew then back at Annalise. “Gabe said mine was golden...with little flickers of red.”  
  
The woman pursed her lips, hesitating before saying, “Impossible. No human has a golden aura.”  
  
Gabriel turned his head to look at her. “I saw it, miss. It was gold with red.”  
  
“No human?” Pierre tilted his head. “Annalise, you’re not suggesting that there are other types of beings out there...like...vampires or whatever...they don’t exist.”  
  
Annalise grimaced. “You’re right about vampires, and werewolves...and the like. They don’t exist. At least not as fantasy writers portray them.” She looked at the man sitting next to her. “There are other more infinitely amazing beings that exist.”  
  
“Like angels.” Gabriel said.  
  
Pierre frowned at his nephew. But Annalise spoke before he could reprimand him. “Yes, Gabriel. Exactly. Angels.”  
  
Pierre scoffed. “Yeah, right. Pull the other one.”  
  
Annalise stared at him. “Tell me, Pierre. If angels don’t exist, why does the L’Angelic Division exist?”  
  
He had no answer to her question. He turned away and looked across to where Pat was sitting, going over the band’s schedule with Chuck. He looked up and met Pierre’s eyes. Smiling he waved to him then turned back to his discussion with Chuck.  
  
“You and Pat are connected.”  
  
Pierre looked at Annalise. “Pardon?”  
  
“Your auras are linked. Your nephew just told me.”  
  
Pierre flushed a little. “He’s my boyfriend.”  
  
She smiled softly. “I kind of figured that was the case.”  
  
He smirked then leaned back staring at her his eyes narrowing slightly. “You said something about your father...when you came into my place.”  
  
Annalise stiffened and glanced at Gabriel.  
  
Pierre sighed. “Not a good time, eh?”  
  
She breathed in deeply and stared into his eyes and spoke, though her mouth did not open and Pierre realised that she was talking to him in his mind.  _My father...is the head of the Canadian Secret Service._  
  
Pierre froze and then his expression went cold.  
  
Annalise sensed a sudden wave of distrust emanating from the big man and actually shrank back in her seat.  _I can explain..._  
  
Pierre gave a barely perceptible nod of his head.  
  
She took several deep breaths.  _I was estranged from my father a long time ago when I was a child. I was brought up, by the government, as a State Ward. I never knew my father really. I lived with a family who worked in the LAD. That’s why I work there now. Because I wanted to make a difference._  
  
She dropped her chin to her chest and peered up at him. Pierre sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
Annalise went on, sensing Pierre’s questions before he even realised he had them.  _I found out about my father because I was curious about my background. He is highly religious...and that should’ve been good for the LAD, except that...he does not believe that our work is in line with the Church._  
  
Pierre finally spoke, his voice low so Gabriel, who had pulled out his PSP and was playing a game with his earphones in, couldn’t hear him. “Is that why he’s after Gabe?”  
  
Annalise nodded then smirked at him.  _You know, you can talk to me like this. It’s just as if your talking to yourself...but direct it to me. Mind speech._  
  
Pierre screwed up his face.  
  
She laughed.  _Pierre, close your eyes...and kind of let your eyes unfocus on the inside of your eyelids...like when you meditate._  
  
Pierre snorted. “I don’t.”  
  
Annalise looked at him, finally talking out loud. “You’ve done yoga?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Yeah, well do the relaxation exercise. Let your mind drift and then you’ll be able to see your inner light.”  
  
Pierre did as she suggested, breathing in and out slowly, steadily. A shiver ran down his spine as he was suddenly able to see a soft golden glow coming from somewhere inside him.  _Fuck...  
  
No need to swear, Pierre.  
  
You hear me?  
  
Yeah, I hear you._  
  
Pierre blinked. “Wow.”  
  
Annalise laughed again. “See, easy as pie.” She tilted her head and looked thoughtfully into his dark eyes; they had thawed, a little.  _There’s more to you than you realise, Pierre Bouvier. Most of the things I told you when we met in Las Vegas, you do not remember now, but they will come back to you. Just understand this is all so you can protect your nephew._  
  
Pierre folded his arms tight across his chest.  _I still don’t understand what’s so important about Gabe. He’s just Jon’s son._  
  
The young woman shook her head.  _I can’t say...  
  
Annalise.  
  
No. My Commander has said that you know enough, for now. You’re safer that way. But he did mention that once you are safely out of Canadian territory your brother, Jason, would contact you._  
  
Pierre muttered, “Yeah, that’d be nice, him calling  _me_  rather than my friends.”  
  
“Security reasons...”  
  
“I know.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “Still it’d be nice to be less confused about all this.”  
  
Annalise shrugged delicately. “You might not want to know the full truth.”  
  
Pierre pressed the button on his armrest to make the seat tilt back a little. “Maybe.” He settled back, wriggling his bottom to get comfortable. “But then, maybe I do want to know.”  
  
She shook her head. “One thing at a time. You should just focus on your band for the moment.”  
  
Pierre kneaded at the back of his neck. “You’re right.” He smiled, the brightness chasing away all traces of ice that had been left in his eyes. “I’m actually real excited for this promo tour. It’s always amazing and a little nerve wracking when we showcase new material.”  
  
“I bet. I saw your live broadcast of  _When I’m Gone_. Loved it.”  
  
“You’re a fan?”  
  
She giggled. “That’s why I volunteered to meet you in February.”  
  
“Jeeze.” Pierre chuckled, dimples appearing in his rosy cheeks as he smiled broadly.  
  
Annalise had to turn away such was the effect the man had on her. He had charisma and charm in bucket loads and she had a feeling he knew exactly how to use it to his advantage. Too bad, he was taken -- by a guy, no less. She felt him shift on his chair.  
  
“You said no human could have an aura like mine...”  
  
Annalise blinked and turned her gaze to him. “Yeah, that’s what I said. But, maybe you’re an extra special person.”  
  
Pierre laughed. “Are you flirting with me, Annalise?”  
  
“Um. I would be, but you’re taken.”  
  
Pierre’s smile fell away. “Y’know that’s the first time someone’s said that without mentioning the fact that I’m with a guy.”  
  
She shrugged. “You’re gay. So what. That’s your decision. I can hardly blame you. Guys are...well. Just great.”  
  
Pierre looked away, over to Pat. His friend was reading a magazine now, his profile silhouetted by the light coming through the plane window. He allowed his eyes to move over Pat’s hard body. The T-shirt he was wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination. Annalise smiled to herself as she noticed what Pierre was doing -- he was definitely very much in love with the other man.  
  
Settling back against her seat, she tilted her head back slightly as the sound of the flight attendants moving down the aisle with the meal trolleys started.  
  
Pierre was still watching Pat as his head came up and he leaned over to tap David who was sitting in front of him.  
  
“Oi, David, food’s coming.”’  
  
The bassist gave a shriek and spun around in his seat. “Don’t do that, Patrick. Go and poke Pierre, why don’t you.”  
  
Patrick rolled his eyes but then looked across at Pierre, flashing him a bright smile. Pierre snorted and looked away just as the flight attendant stopped next to him with his trolley.  
  
“What would you like, sir?”  
  
Pierre smirked. “The rubber chicken’ll do me.”  
  
Annalise lifted an eyebrow. Gabriel giggled.  
  
The flight attendant smiled. “I’m sorry, we’re all out of rubber chicken. Will the plastic pasta suffice?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Glad to see you have a sense of humour. The pasta will be fine.”  
  
The flight attendant nodded and handed out three foil-covered meals. Gabriel immediately opened his and began to eat as he was now watching a movie on his PSP.  
  
“Enjoy.” The attendant smiled then moved along the aisle to speak to the next passengers.  
  
“Rubber chicken?” Annalise shook her head. “You’re unbelievable, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre laughed and nodded toward Patrick. “Blame him. He started it.”  
  
The young woman rolled her eyes. "I never play the blame game.”  
  
“Really? Then you mustn’t have ever been in a serious relationship.”  
  
Something akin to pain flashed in her purple gaze.  
  
She looked away but not before Pierre noticed. “I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have said that.”  
  
Annalise lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant gesture. “Just eat your food, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre didn’t move to touch his food. “You changed the subject before.”  
  
She looked at him. “Pardon?”  
  
“When I asked about auras.”  
  
She swallowed hard. He watched her, his expression questioning.  
  
Trembling suddenly, she said, scratchily, “I don’t understand how yours could be...that colour. If I knew, I’d try to explain it to you.”  
  
Pierre leaned his head back. “Do you think it’d be important to know what it means?”  
  
“Very. I know someone in Paris who may have answers.”  
  
Pierre chuckled, “Lucky. We’re headed there straight after Singapore.”  
  
Annalise almost choked on a piece of pasta. “ _Really?_  Honest to God?”  
  
Amused at her reaction, Pierre nodded. “Really. Never been there, eh?”  
  
She shook her head. “Never. My contact in Paris has always come to Canada to see me at LAD headquarters. I’ve never met him in France. I’ve always wanted to go at any rate. Hear it’s a beautiful country.”  
  
“Well, there you go. Now we know one thing we need to do when we get there.” Pierre glanced over to Pat and Chuck’s row. “I’ll have to tell Chuck.”  
  
“Of course,” Annalise nodded. “But don’t worry about that now.”  
  
Pierre smiled, stretching his arms above his head and finally lifted the foil off his still steaming hot pasta meal.  
  
 _ **Wednesday November 28th 2007  
  
Tokyo International Airport Arrival Hall  
  
11:30 PM**_  
  
Annalise scanned the crowded baggage carousel area, eyes narrowed. Pierre stood behind her, frowning. Gabriel hovered close to him not wanting to risk losing sight of his uncle.  
  
“Well, is it safe?” Pat grumbled from Pierre’s other side.  
  
The young woman glanced back at him. “I know you resent me being here...”  
  
“I never said that.”  
  
Annalise silenced him with a look. “It’s important I check. Unless, of course, you want Pierre to get hurt, and Gabriel taken.”  
  
Patrick paled. “No. Of course not.”  
  
The rest of the band members stood back from them waiting. The eight of them had left the plane without much drama. Because it was late at night, and because their schedule had been changed so abruptly, there was no one there to meet them.  
  
Therefore, Chuck and Pat had been frantically calling for transport and aid to move the band’s gear to their hotel. And Annalise had taken it upon herself to ensure their safety. The woman went back to sweeping her gaze around the arrival hall.  
  
Finally, she nodded and looked up at Pierre. “It’s all safe.”  
  
Pierre relaxed, a smile transforming his features. He turned to wave to the others. But, as they moved forward to join them there was a sudden commotion close by. Before any of them could react, a volley of gunshots rang out in the crowded baggage hall.  
  
Pierre reacted automatically, grabbing Gabriel and hauling him down to the floor. Annalise seized hold of Pat’s arm pulling him down. Jeff, Seb and David flung themselves down. People were ducking down fast, looking confused, afraid.  
  
One more gunshot rang out and then there was silence.  
  
Gabriel wriggled under his uncle’s body and then whispered. “ _Tonton_  Pierre...where’s  _Oncle_  Chuck...?”  
  
Pierre stiffened and lifted his head slightly. And then there was an awful sound from next to him.  
  
It was David, he was screaming. “ _CHUCK!_  Chuck!  _Baise!_ ”  
  
Annalise jerked up, releasing Pat, and crawled to the bassist’s side, pulling him away. Pierre swore harshly when he saw what she’d pulled the smaller man from. It was Chuck. He was on his side, a hand clutched over his stomach, blood trickling between his fingers. He was moaning.  
  
Pierre growled and moved over to the young woman, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her around, fury burning in his dark eyes. “You didn’t see this? I thought you fucking said it was safe!”  
  
Annalise trembled, afraid of Pierre’s anger. It was wild; ferocious like a caged tiger in all its glory. If she focussed closely, enough she could almost see the wild animal lurking in the depths of his furious gaze. She didn’t allow her fear to show in her face, though. She had to be strong.  
  
“I didn’t sense any danger...god, I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “It’ll be okay...he’s not dead.”  
  
Pierre spat savagely, “Well, he will be soon if we don’t get him to a fucking doctor, or something.”  
  
The others all came closer and glared at the young woman. She shook her head, and then looked at Gabriel. The boy looked back at her a strange light in his blue eyes. Pierre shoved her away, then pulled his cell phone from his pocket.  
  
She grabbed his hand. “No. Don’t...your phone might be traced...”  
  
Pierre slapped her hand away. “Fuck off, I have to call an ambulance.”  
  
Pat, conscious of Annalise’s agitation leaned forward to tap Pierre’s arm, holding out his own phone.  
  
At the same time, Gabriel darted in between Pierre and Chuck’s prone form, turning to look at his uncle. “ _Tonton_  Pierre, no. Don’t call.”  
  
Pierre glowered at him. “Jesus, Gabriel.”  
  
He turned his back on them all and dialled the international service line. Gabriel shook his head in exasperation and turned to lean over Chuck.  
  
Chuck moaned and slitted an eye open, to look at him. “Hey, kid...” He closed his eye again.  
  
The boy pressed a hand over one of Chuck’s. “ _Oncle_  Chuck...”  
  
David was shaking; Pat had an arm draped over his shoulder, squeezing him gently. Jeff hovered close to Pierre waiting as he tried to get through. Seb was glaring at Annalise who was watching Gabriel. The boy closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, concentrating, keeping his hand pressed against Chuck’s.  
  
Meanwhile, strangely, the rest of the people in the arrivals hall moved around them as if nothing had ever happened. Seb noticed this and frowned curiously. “Uh...Pat? Look at that...”  
  
Pat and David both looked up and blinked when they realised that people were just walking around them as if they weren’t even there. And it wasn’t like they were trying to avoid them. It was like they didn’t even exist.  
  
“Fuck...I don’t think they even see us...how?”  
  
Annalise looked away from Gabriel and Chuck, a strained look in her eyes. “That’d be my doing...”  
  
Pat glared at her. “Why?”  
  
She shook her head. “They don’t need to see this.”  
  
“See what?”  
  
“You’ll see.” She smiled then looked back at the boy and the man.  
  
Pat grumbled, but then stopped as his eyes fell on Gabriel and Chuck. His eyes widened, and he clutched tighter to David, who also stared too stunned to speak. Sebastien also watched blinking hard, not believing what he was seeing.  
  
“ _Merde_. I can’t get through.” Pierre snarled in frustration and shut his phone.  
  
Turning to look back at Chuck, he suddenly froze. There was a white light shining around Gabriel’s body -- his aura -- but the light was moving, flowing from his body and going into Chuck’s right at the point where the bullets had penetrated.  
  
 _Holy shit_. Pierre shivered, noticing for the first time the silence that surrounded their little party.  
  
He swivelled his head to look at the people streaming passed them then looked back at the scene before him. Chuck’s wound was closing up in front of his eyes. And for some odd reason it wasn’t freaking him out.  
  
Shivering he looked across at Annalise. She was watching his nephew with almost an expression of awe in her purple eyes.  
  
 _Annalise...?_  
  
She peered over at him.  _Yeah?  
  
How does he...?  
  
I’m not sure...before you pushed me away...I was asking him if he’d ever healed anything before...  
  
Didn’t he think that was an odd question?  
  
No. After all, strange things have been happening to him all his life...he said there was a lizard that got dropped by a bird in his garden once. It was terribly mangled...and somehow he’d fixed it and it ran off completely intact._  
  
Pierre sank down on the floor tucking his phone away.  _Jesus...  
  
No._ Annalise smiled faintly.  _Gabriel._  
  
Pierre snorted then turned back to watch as Gabriel slowly drew back, relaxing. There was a deafening silence, and then Chuck coughed and opened his eyes. He lay there for several moments then rolled over with a grunt and pushed up into a sitting position.  
  
“Fuck...what happened?” He looked down at his stomach. “Hey...wasn’t I bleeding?”  
  
“You were. You were shot,” Pierre said quietly.  
  
Chuck grimaced. “But then...how?”  
  
Gabriel stood and waggled his fingers at him then rushed over to hide behind Pierre. The big man pulled the boy into his lap and hugged him tight.  
  
Chuck blinked, staring at the little boy. “ _You?_ ”  
  
Gabriel giggled shyly and hid his face against Pierre’s broad chest.  
  
Annalise spoke up. “Yes. Gabriel. But, I suggest you don’t dwell on it, Chuck. You all need to grab your bags and get to your hotel.”  
  
Chuck frowned.  
  
Pat stood and glared at her. “Yeah, and then when we get there, you can explain what the fuck is going on.”  
  
Annalise hesitated.  
  
The six men looked at her; even Pierre’s expression was stony. “You owe us. Chuck just got shot. And I don’t want that to happen again.”  
  
She sighed. “Fine. I will tell you everything I know. But first we have to get out of here.” She looked at Chuck. “Are you okay, now?”  
  
Chuck rubbed at his stomach, looking bemused. “I feel fine.”  
  
“Good, then let’s get your bags and go.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
“You idiot! What the hell did you think you were doing?” The cadet cringed as Agent 78 snapped harshly in his face.  
  
“I thought...”  
  
“You are not paid to think. You are supposed to follow my orders.” The agent swung away and paced the floor, tension in every line of his body. “You could’ve set us back days. Thanks to your trigger-happy stupidity they now know they are being followed.”  
  
The cadet trembled. “Sir...I won’t make the same mistake again.”  
  
Agent 78 turned cold eyes to the young man -- a lanky, green-eyed, redhead, barely out of his teens -- standing in front of him. “No, you won’t, that’s for sure.” He motioned to one of his other men. “Hold him.”  
  
The cadet’s eyes widened as one of the more senior agents moved forward and grabbed him by the arms, holding them behind his back. “Sir...?”  
  
The agent unclipped his gun from its holster and slowly loaded a single bullet into the chamber. He looked at the fearful cadet and spoke, grimly. “Let this be a warning to everyone. I will not countenance mistakes. This mission is too important.”  
  
He nodded to the other agent, who forced the young cadet to his knees. Agent 78 stepped closer and lifted the gun resting the barrel against the cadet’s left temple.  
  
“Wait!” The young cadet’s voice cracked in fear. “I...I’ll follow them...I...I’ll befriend them...y’know...I...I can...go to their gigs here...travel with them...and...and...you can put a wire on me...”  
  
The agent narrowed his eyes, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Then he snarled and swung the gun around hard, knocking the young man out cold. The cadet slumped to the floor.  
  
Agent 78 breathed out steadily and glanced at the other agents around him. “When he wakes, brief him and send him out. And make sure he understands if he fails me, he dies.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **Tokyo Hotel  
  
Room 315  
  
1 AM**_  
  
Pat stood at the window staring out on the neon lit streets of Tokyo. Pierre was pressed up behind him, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, chin leaning on his left one. They were both stripped down to their boxers, hot air from the heater blowing across their bare skin.  
  
Gabriel had gone to bed as soon as they’d gotten into their room, after they had spent half an hour with the rest of the band and Annalise in a small lounge on the ground floor. Annalise had finally told them what was really going on, at least as much as she knew. She said even she didn’t know everything.  
  
The two men were still reeling from the implications of her words.  
  
Pierre sighed softly. Pat turned his head slightly to look at him.  
  
Pierre took his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared back. “What do you make of it, babe?”  
  
“I don’t know. It...it seems so fucking unreal.”  
  
“I know. I mean, it’s like those fantasy books you’d read as a kid.”  
  
“Exactly. But, this is real life.” Pat looked down and rubbed a hand over Pierre’s tattooed arm.  
  
The bigger man shivered. “What’s real, eh?”  
  
Pat laughed weakly. “Those gunshot wounds definitely were...”  
  
Pierre breathed out harshly. “The way Gabe just...”  
  
“I know...I wouldn’t have believed it except that it happened right there...and Chuck’s okay.”  
  
“Yeah, still bossing us around.” His breath was hot against Pat’s neck.  
  
Pat trembled and leaned back against his boyfriend’s hard frame. “This is just...too weird for me.”  
  
Pierre ran a hand along Pat’s arm, caressing gently. “It’ll be okay. Annalise said she’d keep an eye out.”  
  
Pat bristled, pulling away and turning to lean back against the windowsill. “You trust her, even after she didn’t protect us from that shooter?”  
  
Pierre frowned. “She knows what she’s dealing with now.”  
  
“Hmph, so she says.”  
  
“Jesus, Pat. She won’t let it happen again.”  
  
Patrick glowered at him. “What were you doing with her in Las Vegas?”  
  
Pierre shook his head, drawing a blank. “Something...” He pressed his lips together. “Nothing important.”  
  
“Hmph. Well, you obviously know her well enough to trust her.” Pat glared at him.  
  
Pierre sighed. “I know her as well as you do. She just...spoke to me more, is all.”  
  
“Yeah, right. Something happened between you two in Las Vegas and you don’t want to tell me.”  
  
“Pat, that is not true, and you fucking well know it.” His voice was stern, hiding the fact that he was confused, himself, as to what happened in Las Vegas. The only recollection he had was of meeting her, but not of what passed between them.  
  
The other man cast a chagrined look at him. “I’m sorry, Pierre, that was uncalled for. I guess I’m just tired.” Pat smeared a hand over his face.  
  
Pierre smiled, happy to let the issue go, and walked over to the large Queen bed. Gabriel was asleep in the single next to it.  
  
“Come to bed then.”  
  
Pat didn’t move just stood, looking at his lover as he lay back on the bed. Confused thoughts warred in his mind. He knew that something had happened that period of time Pierre disappeared on him, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was really about. And if Annalise had been with him at the time, that was possibly something to worry about.  
  
Sure, he knew Pierre was gay, even if they both joked it was only with Pat. However, there was a seed of doubt growing inside him. She wasn’t bad to look at and Pierre had been known to hook-up with a chick if she were hot enough.  
  
Pierre smiled faintly, causing Pat’s heart to melt as it always did. “Patrick, get your ass to bed.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because I love you, babe.”  
  
Pat chuckled and took a running leap, landing next to the bigger man. Rolling over so he could cuddle close, he nuzzled against Pierre’s firm chest. “That’s a good enough reason for me...”  
  
“Yeah, good to hear...”  
  
Pat yawned, pushing all his negative thoughts from his mind. “Busy day tomorrow.”  
  
“Yeah, but we’re used to that.”  
  
“Hell yeah, it’s the kind of drama I’m used to.”  
  
“Well, we’ll be okay...” Pierre glanced over to Gabriel’s sleeping form. “Not that I’d let anything happen to Gabe, at any rate.”  
  
Pat nodded sleepily. “Mhm...how’s it feel?”  
  
“Hmmm?”  
  
“How’s it feel having him around?”  
  
“I’ll let you know when he’s been with us for longer than a few days...”  
  
“Heh...yeh...it’s only been that long, eh...”  
  
Pierre nuzzled into the other man’s dark blonde hair. “Mhm...”  
  
Patrick yawned again, his jaw cracking slightly.  
  
Pierre looked into his face. “Sleepy, babe?”  
  
“Yeah...”  
  
“Go to sleep then.”  
  
Pat smiled and closed his eyes. Pierre threw an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, and closed his eyes letting his breath out in a contented sigh. His breathing slowed, levelled out as he soon fell asleep.  
  
Pat lay there awake for a long time after Pierre had fallen asleep. All the worrisome thoughts that he had suppressed earlier began to surface and cycle rapidly through his mind.  
  
A part of him wanted to know what had happened whilst Pierre was away, wanted to know if he’d been...seeing  _her_  there in Las Vegas.  
  
Another part just wanted to trust Pierre, because he knew that Pierre loved him. And one more part was telling him that it was none of his business either way, and that now, more than ever, his boyfriend needed his support.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Pat put those thoughts to rest, and snuggled even closer to Pierre’s body before slipping into a restless slumber.


	5. Steel the heart; release the power

_**FLASHBACK  
  
Sunday February 11th 2007  
  
Las Vegas - Secret Location  
  
1 AM**_  
  
 _It was cold. But, then again, Las Vegas was in the middle of one of its coldest months. Pierre stood silently, dressed only in a pair of jeans and one of his many black Role Model T-shirts. Probably pretty stupid since it was so cold. But, strangely he didn’t feel too bad.  
  
He was in the dark waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure of, but he knew it was important. Or so said the message he’d received whilst he was partying with some friends earlier the night before. He was actually on a holiday to Las Vegas with Jason’s sometime’s girlfriend Nerelle. A blonde ‘party girl’, as she liked to called herself.  
  
Jason had won tickets to stay in Las Vegas for a week, but because of his military duties he’d been unable to go, so Pierre had ended up snagging the second ticket for himself. Being with Nerelle was a real blast for the young man.  
  
She knew the best places to go to, the best restaurants, and the best clubs. She also knew how to get Pierre into trouble. But, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Being the lead singer of a band came in handy at times.  
  
And for some reason, as lead singer of Simple Plan, Pierre had managed to escape the scrutiny of the media. But then again, that was probably because he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t. He didn’t put up an image like so many other guys in bands did. He was just himself.  
  
So, there he was in a place he didn’t know the name of, directed by an anonymous missive that had been sent to him on his cell phone.  
  
Wrapping his arms around his body, he peered into the darkness. “Hello...? Anyone there?” Silence. Pierre turned slightly, straining to hear the slightest sound. “This had better not be a prank...”  
  
“No. This is no prank, Pierre Charles Bouvier.”  
  
He stilled, blinking unable to see through the gloom. Someone moved near by causing him to jump slightly and then suddenly there was a woman standing in front of him.  
  
He swallowed hard. “Who...how? How do you know my name?”  
  
The woman just smiled at him. She had long blonde hair and penetrating purple eyes. Pierre noticed then that his surroundings had lightened enough for him to see where they were. They were standing in a small courtyard in one of the larger gardens in inner Las Vegas.  
  
He looked at the woman. She was wearing a simple lilac dress that seemed to flow down around her body. He wondered why she wasn’t cold. Perhaps she didn’t feel it. But then that would be really odd.  
  
The woman motioned to a bench close to them. “Sit down...I need to speak with you.”  
  
Pursing his lips, Pierre moved to sit on the bench, folding his arms, a questioning look in his eyes. The young woman moved to sit next to him and clasped her hands in front of her.  
  
“Now, I’ll answer your first questions. My name is Annalise and I’ve known you for a long time, Pierre.”  
  
“You have?”  
  
The woman nodded. “Yes. We’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since you were born.”  
  
Pierre shivered, the thought of being watched his whole life was a little frightening. Still, his curiosity overrode that feeling. “'We’ve’?”  
  
“The L’Angelic Division. I haven’t personally since I’m younger than you, but they have. It’s a government department dedicated to the religious and spiritual aspects of our country.”  
  
Pierre licked his lips. “You run the Church?”  
  
The woman shook her head. “Not exactly. The Church is a member of the LAD. However, we deal with all religions and all the aspects involved. We also deal with all supernatural issues. From...exorcisms to ancient prophecies.”  
  
He shifted on the bench. “Then why would you be watching me? I’m nothing special. I’m not even a Christian or any other religion. I do believe in karma though...y’know?”  
  
Annalise smiled. “Ah, yes. You believe in reincarnation and that if you do good things it will bode well for you in your next life.”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Something like that. You know, what comes around goes around.”  
  
The woman nodded. “That is a comforting thought.”  
  
She folded her hands in her lap. “As for you not being special, I am about to disabuse you of that notion.”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Well, if that’s the case, could you stop talking like that?”  
  
Annalise laughed, her eyes sparkling like amethyst jewels. “Sorry ‘bout that.” She went slightly pink and looked down. “It’s just a stupid habit. I don’t normally talk like that.”  
  
Pierre smiled. “Nervous?”  
  
“You could say so.” She peeked at him.  
  
He smiled disarmingly at her. “I should be more nervous, you’re about to tell me something about myself that even I don’t know. Not every day you find out something brand spankin’ new about yourself.”  
  
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Something flickered in her eyes and then vanished. “So, about you and being special...”  
  
“Yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow at her; she giggled but then forced her expression to become more serious. However, Pierre could see a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.  
  
“You’re part angel.”  
  
“WHAT?” Pierre stood up and backed off from her his eyes going hard. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous! That’s not true.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because that’s impossible. There are no such things as angels.” Pierre turned away from her and stared out into the cold night. Annalise watched the man standing there; saw the tension in his broad shoulders. He spoke again, his voice tight. “I have two perfectly good parents.”  
  
“Of course, I’m not saying that Louise and Real are bad parents. I’m not even saying that Real is not your dad. Lucifer has his own way of ensuring his children are born into the human race. And we have no idea what that is.”  
  
Pierre stiffened and turned his head to look at her. “Lucifer? Isn’t he the devil? Satan?”  
  
Annalise sniffed. “Only the Church thinks he’s evil.”  
  
Pierre glowered at her.  
  
She added, “He is the Fallen Angel of Heaven.”  
  
“Fuck. I don’t want to hear this...I’m just a guy in a little band...”  
  
“Little? I hear you’re about to go back into the studio to record your third album.”  
  
He blushed a little and rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah...after I have some time to relax...”  
  
“Well, you’ll have plenty of time. Don’t you have the rest of this week?”  
  
Pierre chuckled. “I guess.”  
  
Annalise stood and walked over to him. “I know this is a bit much to take in.”  
  
“It’s fucking unbelievable.”  
  
“I know. But, I can prove it to you.”  
  
Pierre scratched his left ear, his expression doubtful. Yet, he was still interested. “All right then. Show me.”  
  
Annalise took a deep breath. “Give me your left hand.”  
  
“Huh?” He involuntarily tightened his arms over his chest.  
  
“Pierre, please give me your hand. I can’t show you otherwise.”  
  
Pierre actually felt a stab of fear in his stomach as he held his left hand out. Something was about to happen and he had no idea whether he wanted to go through it or not. Annalise grabbed his hand, and before he could stop her, she’d drawn a small pocketknife and slashed straight across his wrist.  
  
He yelped and jerked back from her. “What the fuck are you doing!?” He looked down at his arm, expecting to see it bleeding, and was stunned. The wound was already closing up, the blood slowly disappearing back under the skin. “Fuck...” Pierre shuddered and stumbled back in shock, slowly sinking onto the bench. His face paled.  
  
Annalise watched him seeing myriad questions flashing passed his eyes, and then sat next to him, tucking the knife back into the folds of her skirt. “Before you ask, the reason that hasn’t happened to you before, at least so obviously, is because you’ve never had a wound deep enough for your body to need to react in such a way.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Pierre looked at her, massaging his thumb across the spot where the cut had been.  
  
“Well, I cut straight across an artery there. I mean the worst injury you’ve had wasn’t life threatening.”  
  
“A broken collarbone...”  
  
“Yeah, it’s a-”  
  
“Pain in the ass.”  
  
“Exactly, but you wouldn’t die.”  
  
“But, a slit wrist?”  
  
“Ever wonder why that’s the number one way people attempt and succeed in suicides?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Yeah. That’s interesting.”  
  
Annalise blinked at him. “You are...an immortal.”  
  
Pierre tilted his head back. “Maybe I’ve just got remarkable healing capabilities...”  
  
“No. You are half angel. Believe it or not.” A smirk touched the corners of her mouth. “You know when you said you believed in karma and having good things in your next life. That feeds into your belief of reincarnation, right.”  
  
“Uh, yeah?”  
  
“Well, you weren’t far off the mark. Your soul is immortal. And, at least for longer than other human’s, your body is; however, even immortals die, only whole Angels live forever. Half-angels...they live many lives, through the one soul-mind.” Annalise chuckled. “You haven’t always been Pierre Bouvier.” She winked at him. “You haven’t always been male either. In fact...this is actually your first incarnation as a male.”  
  
Pierre raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, too overwhelmed to respond.  
  
Annalise went on. “Every half-human child of the Fallen Angel has a Spirit...an animal totem that guides them. Yours is the tiger. For that matter...so do all angels.”  
  
He crossed his legs at the ankle. “What do they do?”  
  
“We don’t know much about Spirits. There are legends written that say they’ll actually appear in times of trouble.” She paused.  
  
Pierre rubbed his arm. “You don’t believe it?”  
  
“I’ve never seen it happen. But maybe there hasn’t been a bad enough time.” She licked her lips. “They do reflect your personality though.”  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face, groaning a little. “Unbelievable...”  
  
“I know.” Annalise took a deep breath and sat back, allowing him to let everything she’d just said sink in.  
  
Pierre closed his eyes and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Fuck...I don’t think I understand any of this...”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to understand it now. All I know is that in the future you will.”  
  
Pierre sighed heavily and looked up at her through his shaggy curtain of hair. “That’s great...and in the meantime...I just go on with life as normal?”  
  
“I guess so.”  
  
Pierre rolled his neck on his shoulders, stretching the muscles. “Anything else I need to know, other than the fact that I heal real well?”  
  
Annalise stared directly into his deep brown eyes. “I’ll tell you this, even though it’s unlikely that this would ever be an issue for you. The only thing that will kill you is a bullet to the heart.”  
  
“A silver bullet?”  
  
She laughed. “You’re not a werewolf.”  
  
Pierre smirked. “A normal bullet then?”  
  
“Any, but it has to be the heart.” She smiled faintly. “Not that I believe you’ll ever be in a position where you’d get shot...but I have to tell you anyway.”  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
Annalise pressed her lips together. “Not that you’d actually be dead.”  
  
“Ugh, don’t confuse me.”  
  
“Your soul would live on, until it was time to be born again.” She watched him, knowing that she was withholding the complete truth from him -- telling a little white lie. The fact was that there was nothing in heaven, or earth, that could kill him. But, she didn’t think he needed to know that, just yet. He already had enough on his plate.  
  
Pierre stood again and walked away from her, twisting at the hem of his T-shirt. His mind was working overtime trying to process all that the young woman had said. But, it was almost too much to handle.  
  
Annalise sensed this and spoke out. “You won’t remember any of this once you leave here...at least, not consciously.”  
  
Pierre’s head swivelled to her as he scowled. “How do you mean?” He walked back to sit next to her again.  
  
Annalise chewed on her bottom lip before responding. “The only thing you’ll remember is a sense that you’ve done something that will help you in the future. And let me tell you this. We will meet again. You will remember that you met me, but this conversation will not exist in your conscious memory. You will not remember any of the things I told you until you need them.  
  
Knowledge is powerful...but only with the right trigger. Just understand this, you cannot be harmed...but don’t ever let anyone know this. That is the only concrete thing you will remember, other than, that this night was an important one in your life.”  
  
Pierre laughed, to hide the tremor that raced through his body. “You did it again.”  
  
The young woman dragged her fingers through her hair. “Sorry again. I just thought it sounded more impressive if I said it that way.”  
  
“Heh...true. It did. So how do you make me forget all this stuff? And retain it at the same time? And what about you? Will you remember me?”  
  
Annalise shifted on the bench and placed a hand on the middle of his forehead.  
  
“Yes. I won’t forget you. But, I’ll give nothing away. Now. Close your eyes.”  
  
He did, slowly, his lashes laying flush against his apple cheeks. The young woman could feel the heat coming from Pierre’s skin. She breathed out steadily and closed her own eyes so she could concentrate.  
  
Pierre felt a chill race up his spine and then a numbing sensation somewhere deep inside his mind. He couldn’t describe the sensation but it made his head spin. And then darkness engulfed him and he remembered nothing, waking hours later, alone in his hotel room._  
  
 _ **Thursday November 29th 2007  
  
Tokyo Hotel  
  
Room 317  
  
8 AM**_  
  
Early wake up calls: Never the band’s favourite thing to do. Of course to most other people, 8 in the morning wasn’t that early. But to five men who were in a band that was too early a time to function. But on promotional tours, early mornings were the order of the day.  
  
Chuck was the exception. He was always up early. And this morning was no different. There was one other person who was up early and who had crept into his room even before he was awake.  
  
Gabriel had woken with a start sweat trickling down his face. Nightmares. Chuck, rubbing sleep from his eyes, sat up to find the little boy curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed.  
  
“Gabe? What are you doing in here?”  
  
Gabriel peeked up at him. “Didn’t want to wake  _Tonton_  Pierre...”  
  
“Something up?”  
  
The boy shook his head. “Just hungry...”  
  
Chuck smiled and climbed out of bed, scratching his stomach. “Well, just let me get dressed and we can go grab a coffee and some bagels, ‘kay?”  
  
“Bagels in Japan?”  
  
“Yeah, we get to eat real Japanese food today though. This is just while we’re in the hotel.”  
  
“Oh, okay. Then can we wake everybody else up?”  
  
Chuck smirked. “Yeah, just don’t jump on Pierre. He doesn’t appreciate it.”  
  
Gabriel giggled. Then watched as Chuck wandered over to his bag and found a clean shirt and pants to wear. He squinted observing the drummer’s aura. It was a light green tinged with white. It appeared to be swirling impatiently around the central core. Probably in reaction to the healing Gabriel had performed on him the day before.  
  
Once Chuck had dressed, he grabbed his room key and wallet and waved his hand to the boy. “Come on. Let’s go.”  
  
They headed out of Chuck’s room and stopped; Pierre was standing outside his and Pat’s room a strange look in his eyes.  
  
“Pierre?” Chuck frowned at him. “Problem?”  
  
Pierre shook his head and glanced at his nephew. “Morning, kid.”  
  
Gabriel shuffled his feet. “I went to Oncle Chuck’s room...sorry,  _Tonton_  Pierre...”  
  
“It’s okay. I knew where you were.”  
  
Chuck blinked. “How? You were asleep when he left.”  
  
Pierre paused before answering. “Where else would he have gone? Your room is the closest.”  
  
Gabriel sensed that his uncle was making that up. He had a feeling that Pierre had just known, like one knew that the sky was blue. He also guessed that Pierre was a little confused about how he knew and that was why he hesitated.  
  
Chuck of course didn’t notice the pause and just shrugged. “Yeah, that’s true.”  
  
“Where’re you off to?”  
  
“Coffee. Bagels.”  
  
Pierre nodded. “I’ll come with. Pat’s still dead to the world.”  
  
“You’ll have to get him up when we come back.”  
  
“What time is the first interview?”  
  
“Noon. But you know how the other guys are.”  
  
“Yeah, gotta get them going at least an hour beforehand otherwise we’d be late.”  
  
Chuck smirked and headed to the elevator.  
  
Pierre looked at his nephew again. “When did you get up?”  
  
“7:30...” Gabriel shuffled after Chuck. “Coming,  _Tonton_  Pierre?”  
  
Pierre ruffled his own hair, the dark strands falling haphazardly into his face. “Yeah...I’m coming.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
“There’s no scar.” Chuck blew the steam off the top of his coffee as they walked out of the hotel cafe.  
  
Pierre lifted an eyebrow as he shoved half a bagel in his mouth. “Hmmm?”  
  
“Here...” The drummer tugged self-consciously at the bottom of his shirt.  
  
Pierre frowned and glanced around. Swallowing and swiping at a few crumbs on his top lip, he snuck a peek under his friend’s top. Gabriel, who was trailing behind the two men, watched as he did this.  
  
“Damn...you’re right. It completely healed.”  
  
“Jeeze, Pierre.” Chuck pushed him away. “People are looking at us.”  
  
Pierre chortled and shoved the other half of the bagel in his mouth, making his cheeks puff up like a chipmunk. Gabriel giggled.  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot, y’know that, Bouvier?”  
  
“Heh, that’s why you love me.”  
  
Chuck decided not to respond to that. He cast his eyes around the foyer then nodded slightly. “Look. There’s Annalise.”  
  
Pierre turned his gaze to where his friend indicated. His nephew moved close to look as well. She was standing at the front counter talking to one of the hotel clerks. Her long blonde hair was gathered into a modest ponytail and she was wearing a soft lilac dress. Something flickered in the back of Pierre’s mind, a vague recollection of something from his past.  
  
He shook his head when he heard his friend talking. “What do you make of her, Pierre?”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “She’s an odd one. Did Pat tell you how she just appeared in front of him?”  
  
“No. He didn’t. Damn that’s weird.”  
  
“That’s not all. She can...well...she can talk in your mind...she did it to me, on the flight over.” Pierre refrained from telling Chuck that he had done it as well. He couldn’t believe it himself let alone tell someone else about it.  
  
Chuck shook his head. “Fuck, that’s...” He had no word to describe what it was.  
  
Pierre smirked. “Weird?”  
  
“More than.”  
  
“I think I need to talk to her some more.”  _About Las Vegas..._  
  
Chuck scowled. “No time now. You have to wake Pat. I’ll go rouse the others.” He strode away; a man on a mission.  
  
Pierre sighed then looked at Gabriel. “Do me a favour, kid. Go back to our room and get Pat up.” He looked back across to the young woman. “I need to have a chat with Annalise.”  
  
Gabriel nodded and dashed for the elevator. Pierre turned and walked over the tiled floor. Annalise looked up as he approached her.  
  
“Morning.” She smiled.  
  
He didn’t. “We need to talk. Now.”  
  
She tilted her head at him, expression curious. Pierre took her by the arm and lead her to the small room they’d used the night before, making her sit on one of the couches.  
  
She looked up at him, face impassive. “What do we need to talk about?”  
  
“What happened in Las Vegas?” Pierre’s voice was hard.  
  
Annalise sighed. “I know you’re worried about what happened between us. Nothing happened, at least not like  _that_. You can tell Pat not to worry.” She smirked faintly. “I kept out of your pants.”  
  
Pierre narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, but there’s been some photos of me floating around cyberspace.”  
  
The woman laughed gently. “Pierre, you did that with your brother’s girl. Nerelle? You went clubbing with her, got drunk...that was nothing to do with me.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Annalise reached out and rested a hand on his knee. “You’ll remember about Las Vegas.”  
  
“Will I?”  
  
“Yes. When you need to.”  
  
Pierre scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Exactly that.” She stood. “Now. Don’t you have to go get ready for the rest of the day?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Yes, mommy.”  
  
Annalise’s laugh seemed to chime like bells. “We have a comedian. Go on. You’d better go.”  
  
Pierre glared at her. “Are you sure I’ll remember? Because things are beginning to weird me out a little.”  
  
Annalise looked back at him, expression serious. “You’ll remember. I’m sure of it.”  _I bloody well hope you do..._  
  
Pierre tilted his head picking up on the words she hadn’t spoken aloud. “You hope I do?”  
  
Annalise blushed and hurried away without answering. He watched after her, thoughts churning in his brain. He wondered what she had meant: She hoped he remembered? Did she do something wrong? Wipe his memory completely?  
  
He shook his head at himself and made for the elevator. She was right; he had to get ready for the day. Time enough later to ponder their brief discussion.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Chuck stood outside the hotel watching for the cars that were coming to pick up the band, when he noticed a young man with red hair and a nervy expression, watching him.  _Probably a fan..._  “Hey?”  
  
The young man blinked and scuffed his feet nervously moving forward. “Uh...hi...you’re Chuck, right?”  
  
Chuck lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah?”  
  
“Drummer for Simple Plan?”  
  
He nodded, smiling faintly, looking back to the entrance. The young man swallowed, raking a hand through his hair. Chuck blinked when he realised he was sporting a white bandage, wrapped around his head.  _Wonder what happened...?_  
  
“Um...my name’s Mickey.”  
  
Chuck smirked a little. “You a fan?” Might as well indulge the young man. Particularly if he wasn’t feeling too good; he looked like he’d been in an accident or something.  
  
Mickey nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been following the band for a while. Wanted to y’know go all round the world too.”  
  
“Heh. Sounds good.” Chuck pulled out his palm pilot and absently scrolled through that day’s schedule.  
  
The young man shuffled his feet. “I was actually...wondering whether you might need an extra hand...y’know for merch and stuff...”  
  
Chuck blinked at him, surprised. “You’re asking a for a job?”  
  
Mickey flushed slightly. “Well, I’m taking time off my regular job to follow the band...so I have no income...”  
  
Chuck looked thoughtfully at Mickey. He didn’t even know this guy, still a boy really. And here he was asking for a job on the crew.  
  
It just so happened that one of the band’s regular crewmembers had taken a sabbatical and vanished to Hawaii with his girlfriend so they were actually one short. Still, he had no idea what this kid was like, his credentials. Still, he couldn’t pass up the chance of an extra pair of hands. And Pat would probably appreciate the help.  
  
“Well. I’d have to talk to the rest of the band and get you to meet them.”  
  
Mickey smiled, excitement in his eyes. “Can I get their autographs?”  
  
Chuck laughed. “Well, I’m sure they’ll at least give you that much.”  
  
“Thank you, that’d be a dream come true in itself.” The young man grinned. Then winced slightly holding his hand to his head.  
  
“You okay?” Chuck frowned.  
  
Mickey shrugged slightly. “Yeah...had a bit of an accident. I’ll be right.” He massaged his temple gently. “Where’re you off to now?”  
  
“Interview at Radio Tokyo. Tag along if you want.” Chuck looked back to the entrance once more. The doors slid open and the rest of the band appeared. “Right. Looks like they’re ready...now all we need is our transport.”


	6. Superstitions...

**_Heavens Gates_**  
  
There was a soft breeze blowing across the emerald plains that rolled toward the Gates of Heaven. Three beings floated in front of the sky high gates. They resembled human males, however, their auras overwhelmed their physical shells.  
  
The light appeared to emanate from deep inside them, causing their very beings to glow. The three beings were looking down upon a shimmering pool of light through which they regarded the world that they were in charge of. They were Angels.  
  
Angels do not age; they do not die. They are created, or born, then go on forever. However, they are ranked and the ‘eldest’ of the three was the Fallen Angel himself: Lucifer, Satan, the Devil...whatever name one knew him as, he was that Angel. Father of all angels who live amongst men. He was the largest of the three beings at the Pool of Seers and his pure golden aura seemed to outshine the other two.  
  
The next was his Lieutenant the Archangel Michael. His aura was the colour of the sky in summer and the sea in the fall. And then the ‘youngest’ of the three was Raziel, who had only just returned to service after a 34-year stint in his final mortal incarnation.  
  
 _Hells angels! What in the Almighty’s name is going on down there?_  Raziel’s ruby aura glowed furiously as he hovered before the gates, staring frustrated into the Pool.  
  
Lucifer rolled his eyes.  _Do you not think it ironic you use that term so lightly?_  
  
Michael snorted.  _I’d blame his mortal incarnation. He used to swear up a storm_.  
  
Raziel stopped his frantic movements and swung around, eyes gleaming.  _I’d not blame Jonathan so easily..._  
  
 _Of course, you wouldn’t want to blame yourself for getting killed_. The Fallen Angel swept a hand through pure white blonde hair.  
  
Raziel glared at him.  _That’s so easy for you to say, father._  
  
Lucifer sighed.  _My current mortal incarnation has no idea who he really is. He is acting on mortal whims. This in the end will be his undoing and his saving grace._  
  
Michael settled so his feet rested on the marbled floor.  _Does mine know?  
  
No, young Mickey is none the wiser...for the moment. Best leave it that way for now. He will find out eventually...but then that’s when it’ll really get interesting, for all involved. Particularly since, you are still present here...  
  
Split soul principle..._ Michael’s green eyes shone in amusement.  
  
Lucifer sounded a tad miffed when he retorted.  _Only because you are an Archangel.  
  
Well, you’re not and you have a mortal soul gallivanting around the world...causing havoc.  
  
I concede...but I am The Fallen Angel._  
  
Raziel interrupted.  _Is anyone going to answer my question?_  
  
Michael glanced at the younger angel.  _Looks like the band is on tour in Japan. Why make a fuss. It’s what they do.  
  
That shooting...?_  
  
 _My mistake_... Lucifer settled on the throne-like chair that was positioned to the left of the gates.  
  
 _A mistake?_  Raziel growled.  _A mistake that almost killed a mortal.  
  
Calm yourself, Raziel. Gabriel took care of it._  
  
Michael lifted an eyebrow.  _He’s but a mere child...  
  
Yeah..._Raziel retorted.  _And he couldn’t stop my death..._  
  
Lucifer sighed.  _Raziel...it was time for your soul to return...  
  
And my wife’s?  
  
Angela...she is one with you...you know that, Raziel._  
  
The angel turned away.  _The Almighty...  
  
The Almighty cast us out until we repay our debts to the heavens.  
  
And how do we do that?_ The younger angel sounded sceptical.  
  
Lucifer sighed, his bright blue eyes shining almost unbearably.  _We prevent the premature End of Days...and bring back our sons to the heavens.  
  
Uh...how do we do that?_  
  
Lucifer laughed heartily.  _You’ll see...you’ll see._  
  
 _What are they doing now?_  Michael interrupted as he peered curiously into the pool.  
  
The Fallen Angel turned his head.  _Promotion. And, for now...it’ll be all quiet. No drama...not until they arrive in Singapore.  
  
Not another shooting?  
  
Probably not...but that would be interesting, particularly since my son still hasn’t remembered anything..._  
  
Michael moved over the pool and stretched languidly.  _Annalise told him some things...and will hopefully jog his memory when he needs it..._  
  
Raziel frowned.  _That girl...she doesn’t know everything..._  
  
Lucifer growled.  _My daughter knew all that she needed to know. She is not full-born.  
  
But...Raphael is?  
  
Pierre._ Lucifer corrected mildly then went on.  _Indeed. But he’ll find that out for himself._  
  
Michael snorted.  _Is he ready for it?  
  
That is why Samiel has been with him since the Beginning.  
  
Right...of course. His trusted companion -- his name’s Patrick this time round, right. But he’s completely ignorant.  
  
For now._ Lucifer rose from his chair.  _But only because you insisted upon it, Michael_.  
  
The Archangel snorted.  _Well, I guess perhaps it’s not such a decent thing to do to one’s child...but it’ll be better for him this way. He’ll find out when it’s the right time._  
  
Lucifer shook his head then thought of something peculiar.  _I find it interesting that neither of you have questioned me on Raph- Pierre’s immortality. After all...your final incarnation was fully mortal, Raziel.  
  
Hah._Raziel smirked.  _No need. He is your true son. The one who will succeed you as High Lord of the Fallen Ones...well, as long as you manage to redeem yourself with the Almighty._  
  
Michael added, staring hard at Lucifer,  _His final incarnation is immortal as yours was...meaning he is destined for a place of power..._  
  
Lucifer nodded then chuckled.  _But first...he wishes to conquer the world in his little band..._  
  
Michael snorted.  _With Samiel right beside him all the way...documenting the process..._  
  
The three angels fell silent as soft harp music began to play around them. They went back to gazing upon the being of most concern to them.  
  
 _ **Same Day  
  
Radio Tokyo  
  
12:30 PM**_  
  
“You know. You didn’t have that when I met you in Las Vegas.”  
  
Pierre looked up from one of the exclusive singles he was signing for a competition that the local station was running. Annalise perched next to him on a stool.  
  
“Didn’t have what?”  
  
She pointed at the sleeve tattoo on his left arm.  
  
The radio DJ, Yukiko, who was sitting with them leaned over and smiled. “You have a new arm.”  
  
Pierre chuckled, flexing it. “Yeah. I lost my other one, gambling in Vegas.”  
  
Annalise rolled her eyes, trying not to ogle the lead singer as his bicep bulged a little --  _he’s gay...remember_. “It’s pretty neat...”  
  
“How long did it take?” Yukiko tilted her head.  
  
Pierre sat up and traced the design slowly. “Hmmm...36 hours all up.”  
  
“Amazing.”  
  
“Yeah, I thought so.” Pierre grinned as he slid the cover of the single back into its case and placed it on the table in front of him. “How many of these are being given out as prizes?”  
  
Yukiko smiled. “Ten. Two signed by each of you.” She indicated the rest of the band who were sitting around the table, also signing. David glanced up and waved with a grin.  
  
“So. Ten lucky callers, eh?” Pierre lifted an eyebrow.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Sounds good to me. How long’s the comp going for?”  
  
“The whole of this week.”  
  
“Sweet.” Pierre crossed his legs and leaned back on his chair.  
  
“You get to announce and talk to the first winner.”  
  
Annalise sat back and observed the lead singer as his eyes shone and his smile widened. He looked genuinely pleased at the prospect of speaking to fans. Something that, she knew, wasn’t always an easy thing to do.  
  
Fans could be so fickle. They could love a band one moment and then hate them the next, often leaving bands with only the minority of diehards who followed them from the beginning.  
  
However, she knew from watching the band over the years, they were always grateful to their fans. And they were one of the rare few bands that actually made an effort to meet with their fans, keep in touch with them through any means possible.  
  
For example the relatively new phenomenon of MySpace and Facebook and other such sites on the Internet. Annalise honestly spent a lot of time on those sites catching up on the news.  
  
“Sounds like a plan.” Pierre smeared a large hand over his face then glanced over to the corner of the room where his nephew was playing a game of ‘scissors-paper-rock’ with the kid Chuck had recruited on their crew, just before they got to the radio station.  
  
Mickey, or whatever his name was, seemed like a nice enough guy -- he’d been excited to meet the band, and they’d all autographed something for him. Yet, Pierre had a strange feeling in his gut that he couldn’t quite put a finger to.  
  
He wasn’t sure whether it was a bad feeling or a good one, but he was going to keep a close eye on the young man until he knew what he was about.  
  
“I win!” Gabriel announced loudly just as Pierre was about to ask Yukiko when the callers would be phoning in.  
  
He smiled apologetically at the RDJ and shot his nephew an exasperated look.  
  
Gabriel met his gaze and cocked his head to the side.  _Sorry, Tonton Pierre..._  
  
Pierre’s forehead creased faintly.  _It’s okay...just try not to be too loud...I am kinda working here..._  
  
Annalise lifted an eyebrow.  _Been practising, Pierre?_  
  
He glanced at her, the corner of his lip lifting.  _Yeah...it’s much easier than I thought.  
  
Hah...you haven’t even needed to practise.  
  
Funny that, eh._ Pierre chuckled out loud, but then stopped when he saw that they were all -- even Annalise -- staring at him. “What?”  
  
Chuck narrowed his eyes. “You were staring at her, real weird.”  
  
“Oh. Sorry...” Pierre averted his gaze but spoke silently to her.  _Was I?_  
  
 _Yeah...you need to realise you don’t have to actually look at a person when you’re utilising mind speech.  
  
Sure...of course_. Pierre stretched. “So. Callers going to ring in soon?”  
  
Yukiko smiled turning to flick a few switches. “We go ON AIR in five...”  
  
All five members of Simple Plan straightened in their seats an air of expectancy filling the small room. Pat stood to one side, camera in hand, filming the interview to put up on Simple Plan’s website at a later date.  
  
Annalise moved back to join Gabriel and Mickey. She smiled brightly at the boy but kept her expression slightly guarded as she nodded at the young man. There was something about him that bothered her. She had never seen him before, yet, he appeared vaguely familiar. As if she had known him somewhere before. Maybe in a previous life.  
  
Shaking her head at herself, she returned her gaze to the band and settled back to watch as they did their thing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _Japanese Restaurant  
  
1:30 PM_**  
  
David reached over Pierre’s plate, grabbed a piece of sushi, and then without so much as looking, launched it into Pat’s mouth.  
  
“What the fuck? David! Don’t be feeding my man!” Pierre shoved the bassist away.  
  
David laughed uproariously. Annalise, who was sitting opposite Pierre, raised her eyebrows at his antics. Gabriel who was seated next to her started giggling.  
  
The members of the band, along with Pat, Annalise, Mickey and Gabriel were eating at small local restaurant. They’d gone there straight after the radio interview. The host, Yukiko, had recommended the place because she always went there for lunch. For a small restaurant, it was quite classy, white tablecloths, great service.  
  
Pierre was seated next to David, who was sitting opposite Pat. Seb was sitting on David’s other side, Chuck was to Pierre’s left, and Mickey was next to Chuck. And Jeff was at the end furthest from David as one could possibly get.  
  
Pat rolled his eyes at Pierre, chewing at the piece of sushi. Swallowing he lifted his glass of sake to his boyfriend. “You feed me plenty of stuff, Pie. Leave the boy be.”  
  
“Boy?” David giggled.  
  
Pierre growled. “What would you mean, Patrick?”  
  
Pat snorted. “I’m not repeating crap we do in bed, Bouvier.”  
  
Pierre smirked faintly, dark eyes glittering.  
  
Annalise glanced at Gabriel who was still giggling. “They’re a bit crazy, eh?”  
  
Gabriel shrugged and toyed with his own food, his mood darkening.  
  
Pierre looked over at him, picking up on the abrupt change in the boy. “Not hungry, Gabe?”  
  
His nephew shook his head and pushed his plate away. Pierre reached over and relieved him of his food sliding it onto his own plate.  
  
Pat raised his eyebrows. “Wow, you’re a fucking glutton, Pierre.”  
  
Pierre flipped him off and picking up his chopsticks proceeded to polish the plate of sushi in less than a minute.  
  
“Hah.” Pat jeered. “Glutton.”  
  
The larger man glanced at his boyfriend, narrowing his eyes. Clenching a fist and pointing his finger at him, he whispered in a low menacing tone. “I’ll get you for that later...”  
  
Pat chuckled, licking his lips. “Lookin’ forward to it, Bouvier.”  
  
“Hmph.” Pierre leaned back on his chair, holding his stomach. A moment later, he let out a loud belching sound. “Fuck...I’m stuffed.”  
  
“Gee, Pierre. Wonder why?” David giggled again, light brown eyes sparkling with laughter.  
  
“Fuck you, David.” Pierre grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.  
  
The bassist straightened and grinned expectantly at him. “Yes please.”  
  
“Oh, pleeeease, David. Pierre doesn’t want to fuck you.” Pat leaned over the table and glared at the smaller man.  
  
Annalise couldn’t help but laugh at that comment. Pierre shot a cold look at her. She flinched, it was as if he’d stabbed her with an icy knife such was the intensity of his glare.  
  
His moods were beginning to swing, and she wasn’t certain what that really meant. One moment he was really sweet and nice to her and the next it felt like he didn’t trust her, or something. It probably had to do with the fact that he was regaining his immortal faculties without realising that was what was actually occurring. That could set one off in a big way.  
  
The body and mind could rebel against the unknown sensations causing a massive alteration of mood over an extremely short period. And because he was part-angel, his emotions could actually be felt physically by the person/persons that they were being directed to.  
  
Of course, it didn’t help that he was probably still pissed about what had happened to Chuck, but she’d hoped that he’d got passed that by now. Unless he was picking up on his nephew’s own emotions. Because Gabriel’s moods had begun to swing as well. That would make more sense, except that the boy actually understood the reasons behind his feelings, she couldn’t say the same for Pierre.  
  
Meanwhile, Pierre had picked up on Annalise’s withdrawal from him and he immediately regretted the feeling of mistrust that had suddenly come over him. He was hesitant to apologise for his reaction though. He still wasn’t certain of the woman’s role in his life.  
  
He was actually curious as to why she was sticking by him, but then remembered that she was there to help him find out what was going on with him. Particularly when they went to Paris. He remembered she had a friend there that could hopefully explain some things to him. Still he was reluctant to be too open with her.  
  
Gabriel, who was still staring at the table, peered up through his blonde lashes, watching the two of them. He was very in tune with every person sitting at the table, but particularly with Pierre, Annalise and Patrick. He wasn’t so sure why he was sensing Pat so well, or Annalise for that matter. But he knew why he could feel his uncle so well. Pierre’s soul was in turmoil and his aura had deepened into a burnished gold, dark tinges of red flickering inside the inner core.  
  
He was confused and Gabriel felt it deep inside his own soul. The boy shivered and forced the feeling away, turning his attention to the other end of the table.  
  
His psychic sight fell upon on the redhead, Mickey. The youth was chatting with Chuck about the schedule. Those two had hit it off during the walk to the restaurant and were engrossed in their conversation.  
  
Gabriel tilted his head, frowning; Mickey’s aura was clouded preventing the little boy from seeing his true essence. He had no clue what that meant, but it was a little worrying.  
  
He pushed that thought away and slumped in his chair realising he was getting bored. So, he just went quiet and silently observed the group as they carried on eating, laughing and chatting away, just enjoying their break before getting back to work.  
  
 _ **Toronto  
  
Parliament House  
  
Wednesday 28th 2007  
  
11:30 PM**_  
  
Jason sat at his desk perusing several official documents. He’d just returned to his office from several important state meetings. Since it was late at night he was now at his leisure, so he had time to go over same papers and relax. Glancing absently out the window, he stared at the clear sky, dotted with stars, smirking quietly to himself.  
  
The impending storm had vanished as soon as it appeared, which was strange because those ominous clouds had been hanging around for days, but nothing had ever come of it. Well, it would have been weirder if he’d no idea what was going on. But, he had friends in ‘high’ places, so to speak. He chuckled, leaning back in his seat.  
  
 _What are you laughing at?_  
  
Jason turned his head to look at a large ginger cat that crouched on the windowsill. Septimus Primus was not your average domestic feline. For one, he was almost twice the size, more like a miniature tiger than a house cat.  
  
He had appeared on the Bouvier’s’ doorstep almost ten years ago and alerted the then disturbed young man to his true destiny and purpose in life. At first he’d laughed at the animal and told himself he was dreaming, or that maybe it was the drugs that he’d been taking. But, once he’d gone off them and found that the cat wasn’t going away...well he changed his tune pretty quickly.  
  
“Nothing, Septimus. This is just all too amusing...”  
  
The cat licked a paw and rubbed it behind his ears.  _I doubt Raphael thinks so._  
  
“Hmph. He’ll look back in the future and realise that it is actually quite funny.”  
  
 _I don’t think so, Aniel..._  
  
“You don’t?” Jason picked up his pen and leaned over to sign one of the documents. “I think you sell Pierre short.”  
  
Septimus leapt off the windowsill and padded over to the man, wrapping his sinewy body around his legs, purring low. _We’ll see, Aniel...we’ll see..._  
  
Jason lowered a hand to scratch the cat around his ears, wondering at the cynicism of the large feline.  
  
Septimus hissed arching his back against his hand.  _Aniel...Raph doesn’t even realise what, who, he is._  
  
“That’s why LAD sent Annalise to him.”  
  
 _But she does not know the truth._  
  
“Well, we do. And that’s enough.”  
  
The cat kneaded his paws into the rug at his charge’s feet. Then curled up beneath the chair, rumbling in his chest.  _For now...but Lucifer is impatient for his son to know all..._  
  
Jason snorted but then groaned. “I really should call Pierre...”  
  
The cat didn’t respond this time; it wasn’t for him to decide whether that was a good idea or not. That was for the two-legger to ascertain. Sighing the Lt-Col reached for his phone and dialled Chuck’s number, thinking absently.  
  
 _I’m always on the fucking phone aren’t I?_  
  
Septimus gave a small yowl.  _That’s only because you haven’t mastered long distance mind speech..._  
  
Jason rolled his eyes and hushed the cat waiting for Chuck to pick up.  
  
 _ **Tokyo  
  
Thursday 29th 2007  
  
Japanese Restaurant  
  
2 PM**_  
  
“Oi, Pierre, it’s your brother.” Chuck tossed his phone across to the singer.  
  
Pierre had swapped seats with Annalise so he could sit between Pat and Gabe. Catching it, he turned away, cupping his hand around the phone so he could hear.  
  
“Jason. It’s about fuckin’ time you called me.” Pierre scowled shifting on his chair.  
  
Patrick raised his eyebrows, tilting his head. Pierre absently reached out and raked his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, making the darkened tips stick up. Pat rolled his eyes. Pierre smirked faintly at him, but then frowned as Jason spoke on the other end of the line.  
  
“What are you saying? I don’t fucking understand a word you’re saying.” He leaned back against his chair. “Uhuh...a prophesy? Right...what? To do with Gabe? What the fuck? But he’s a fucking child...how the hell could that possibly be? Nah...no. That’s too hard to believe.” He ran tense fingers continuously through his hair. “No way...no way...” He shook his head hard. “I know...”  
  
He lowered his voice so the other guys couldn’t hear him. “I know we’re being followed...I know I’m in danger...or whatever...but...I didn’t think it was that serious...and over some farfetched thing...I mean...fuck...this is the 21st Century...who believes in that kinda shit? ...Ugh...I know...it’s weird...and I don’t understand it...but...”  
  
He groaned glancing at Pat. The other man gave him a questioning look. Pierre palmed his face wearily. “I don’t need this, Jay...fuck...we’ve just barely started our promo tour...what? What pin? Oh, no, I haven’t found it...no, I haven’t. Tell the agent that there was nothing matching that description in any of Gabe’s gear. Maybe it got dropped back at...Jon’s place...”  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut -- knowing that he was lying hoping his brother didn’t realise -- then open again. As he did this, he happened to glance down and almost gasped out loud in shock. He blinked rapidly as he realised he could see his own aura. It was glowing burnt orange, the golden core fluctuating unsteadily.  
  
 _Crap...I must be upset...ugh...how do I even know that...?_ He pinched the bridge of his nose; his aura faded from his view. “Look, Jay...I gotta go. We have another interview to get to...” He pursed his lips at his brother’s parting words. “Right...of course...I’ll remember that...I don’t plan to let anyone get shot at again...even though we sorted that out... No. I don’t think it’s such a good idea to tell you what that means, right. Well, take care...yeah, I will.”  
  
Clicking Chuck’s phone off he set it down on the table in front of him. He realised his hands were shaking.  
  
Pat touched his shoulder gently. “You okay, babe? You got a bit worked up there...”  
  
Pierre grunted, “Tell me. Are you superstitious?”  
  
Pat blinked. “Uh...no. Why?”  
  
Pressing the heels of hands in his eyes, Pierre grumbled. “All superstitious crap. Impossible. Impossible...”  
  
“Pierre, what are you talking about?”  
  
“Forget it. It’s not important.”  
  
“Well, if you say so.” Patrick grimaced, unsure whether to believe him or not.  
  
Pierre forced a smile onto his features. “It’s nothing, Pat.” He patted the other man’s shoulder. “Believe me, everything’s fine.”  
  
He took a deep breath, then after a second chanced a look at Annalise. Her eyes met his and then he looked away again.  _I need to talk to you..._  
  
Annalise, who was being entertained by David who was attempting to tell jokes, flicked her eyes toward Pierre then back to the bassist.  _Talk, Pierre...  
  
I...um...saw my aura...  
  
Finally...  
  
Finally?  
  
It’s usually the first thing that comes to someone like...us...who has lost their memory.  
  
Oh...like us?_  
  
Annalise didn’t respond.  
  
Pierre sighed and stood.  
  
Chuck looked at him. “Where are you going?”  
  
Pierre grabbed his wallet and nodded to his friend. “Going outside...need some fresh air.”  
  
Then he leaned down to whisper in Pat’s ear. The other man grinned up at him. Pierre straightened and walked out of the restaurant.  
  
Chuck raised his eyebrows at Pat. Pat burped; wiping his mouth then excused himself without bothering to answer his friend’s questioning look, disappearing after Pierre.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pat found Pierre lurking down an alley next to the restaurant. “Babe? What are you doing?”  
  
Pierre leaned back against the wall watching his approach through narrowed eyes. Pat couldn’t help but notice the dark brooding look on his boyfriend’s face. It was sexy as hell. He felt a stirring in his pants.  
  
Pierre noticed and lifted an eyebrow. “Got wood?”  
  
Pat flushed and breached the gap between them faster than he thought possible, grabbing at Pierre’s biceps. “Fuck you, Bouvier...do you realise what you do to me?”  
  
Pierre chuckled, savagely, retrieving one of his arms and sliding his hand down to grab at Pat’s crotch.  
  
Pat gasped and bucked his hips. “Fuck, Pierre...”  
  
“I guess that’s the idea...” Pierre gave a lascivious smirk. Then he slid both his hands to grip his ass pulling him closer so he could rub his own groin against Pat’s.  
  
Pat groaned feeling it grow, leaning into him, angling his face as Pierre’s mouth crashed down against his. But then his phone went off in his back pocket. Pulling away from him, he pulled it from his back pocket and scowled at the Caller ID.  
  
“It’s Chuck...”  
  
“Ugh. Guess we gotta go...” Pierre snarled in frustration, his erection going limp.  
  
Patrick sighed. “Don’t worry...we can finish this later...”  
  
Pierre blinked a few times, his dick stirring again; he absently rubbed at it through his jeans. “Well...that’s something to look forward to.”  
  
His boyfriend gave a light shrug. “Yeah, well...we’d better go.”  
  
“Heh, before Chuck blows his top, eh?”  
  
“That’s never pretty.”  
  
“True. Come on.”  
  
The two men exited the alleyway arms draped around each others shoulders remaining in a comfortable silence all the way back to the restaurant.  
  
As they entered they found the rest of their group already up and paying for the meal.  
  
Pierre tugged his wallet from his back pocket and scrounged for a few Yen tossing them onto the growing pile already on the counter. “There’s my share...”  
  
Pat rubbed at the back of his neck; Pierre grinned at him, licking his lips.  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “Oi...lover boys...keep your dicks in your pants for a little longer, could you?”  
  
Mickey, who was standing close to him, lifted an eyebrow. “They’re...?”  
  
“Yeah,” Pierre shot the youth a look, deep brown eyes narrowed. “We are.”  
  
The young man flinched and stepped back. “Sorry...no offence meant...”  
  
Pat answered before Pierre could. “None taken, kid.” He turned to his boyfriend and murmured in his ear, gently. “Cool it, babe...he was just being curious...”  
  
Pierre grumbled as he made to walk out of the restaurant again. “Curiosity killed the cat, Pat...”  
  
Pat sighed and looked back at the others a ‘what can you do’ look on his face; then he turned and followed him out.  
  
Chuck scratched at his face and laughed softly. “Heh...let’s go...busy afternoon...”  
  
The rest of the group traipsed out of the restaurant into the street to wait for the vehicles that would take them to their next commitment for the day.


	7. Buddha and the Carp

_**Same Day  
  
Tokyo Hotel  
  
Room 315  
  
9 PM**_  
  
The lights were dimmed. Pierre and Pat lay curled together on the large bed, the sheets tangled around their naked bodies. Gabriel had opted to sleep in Chuck’s room giving them some much needed privacy.  
  
“Touch me...” Pierre growled low against Pat’s left ear, one arm curled around the younger man’s neck.  
  
Pat slid his palm down Pierre’s bare chest, over his hard stomach, trailing a finger down the line of hair that started at his navel and tapered at the base of his cock. Smirking, he wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed.  
  
Pierre grunted, bucking his hips against his hand. “Fuck, Pat...I’m so fuckin’ hard for you...”  
  
Pat licked his lips then began to stroke him, hard. Starting at the base, he slid his hand firmly along Pierre’s already solid erection. Pierre pushed against his hand, moaning softly, his arm tightening around Pat’s neck.  
  
“Fuck...Pat...”  
  
Pat chuckled. “Not yet, Bouvier...”  
  
Pierre growled and extricated his arm from the other man’s neck, rubbing a hand over his pecs taking a hold of one of his nipples and pinching it lightly. Pat gasped and tightened his grip on Pierre’s dick. The singer groaned and rocked harder against Pat’s hand. The other man let go and pulled his hand back rolling onto his side.  
  
Pierre frowned. “Hey...what the hell?”  
  
Pat grinned at him. “Fuck me...”  
  
“Now?”  
  
Pat growled. Pierre stared at him, eyes widening slightly. His boyfriend’s aura was suddenly visible to him and it was glowing brightly. A slender silver thread appeared to be flowing from him directly into Pierre’s aura. Shivering, he grabbed Pat’s shoulder and pulled him closer, bringing his mouth down over his, kissing hard. Pat groaned, grasping Pierre’s biceps kissing back.  
  
Pierre snarled, pressing his tongue into Pat’s mouth swirling it against the other man’s teeth. Then abruptly he pulled back and pushed Pat down onto his back.  
  
Kneeling back, Pierre pushed Pat’s legs against his chest, exposing his ass. Pat reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the tube of lube handing it to him.  
  
“Don’t forget this...” His words came out in a soft moan of anticipation.  
  
Pierre licked his lips, uncapping the tube and squeezing a liberal amount onto his palm, stroking his cock with his hand, groaning. Then he curled his palm around Pat’s cock covering it with the remaining lube.  
  
Growling he slid down further and slowly inserted his long middle finger inside Pat’s hole.  
  
“Fuck!” Pat gasped, clenching around his long digit.  
  
Pierre leaned down to press a slow gentle kiss on the head of his penis. Pat groaned louder, bucking his hips. Pierre thrust his finger in deeper and crooked it to rub against the prostate gland.  
  
Pat groaned clenching hard. “Fuck, Pierre...I need...”  
  
Pierre chuckled. “I know.” He pulled his finger out and slid up positioning the head of his thick shaft against the entrance. “Ready...?”  
  
Pat groaned again, closing his eyes. “Don’t fuckin’ wait, Pierre...”  
  
Pierre grabbed his hips, and thrust down and forward, the head penetrating slowly. Patrick trembled, mouth open, panting slightly.  
  
As Pierre pushed in, inch by inch, Pat gasped out in short bursts of air. “Fuck, Pierre...take... your... fucking... time... why... don’t... you...”  
  
Pierre grunted, jerking his hips, driving into the hilt. “Is this what you want?” He growled, feeling Pat’s hole tighten around his cock. “Damn...you’re tight...”  
  
Pat smirked, clenching a little. “It’s...been awhile...”  
  
Pierre licked his lips and slowly pulled out so only the head was left in; then he shoved forward hard, hitting Pat’s spot. He whimpered; Pierre continued to thrust hard, hitting his spot each time.  
  
Pat whimpered, digging his fingers into the sheets beneath him. “Fuck...that’s it...”  
  
Pierre quickened his pace, heaving on him, grunting as he slammed into him. Pat’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and he whined, chest heaving as a wave of pleasure washed through his body.  
  
“Fuck...I’m close...” His body shook.  
  
Pierre gritted his teeth feeling his own orgasm coming on. Just the sight of Pat’s flushed face beneath him was enough to make Pierre feel like he was going to burst. He kept thrusting hitting his lover’s spot firmly each time. Cock swelling, a tingling at the base of his spine.  
  
Patrick felt him and clamped down hard. “Come, baby...”  
  
Pierre gasped and sped up pounding hard as he released, dick twitching inside his hole. Patrick groaned at the sensation and spilled his load a moment later, white strings of cum spurting out and coating his and Pierre’s stomachs.  
  
Pierre collapsed on top of Pat and nuzzled against his chest. “God...so good...”  
  
Pat chuckled and gently pushed him off, Pierre’s cock slipping out. He pulled him up so he could snuggle into his hard body.  
  
Pierre snaked his left arm around Pat’s neck, nuzzling his nose into his neck murmuring softly. “ _Je taime..._ ”  
  
“ _Oui...Aussi_...” Pat smiled and closed his eyes, slowly falling asleep.  
  
Pierre closed his own eyes, holding his lover close, drifting into a peaceful slumber.  
  
 _ **Friday 30th 2007  
  
Toronto  
  
Parliament House  
  
11 AM**_  
  
Acting Prime Minister Jamieson Granger stood in front of a large portrait of the angel Gabriel that took pride of place in the front foyer of Parliament House. Jason stood next to him, hands clasped behind his back.  
  
“Your brother hasn’t found that silver pin yet?”  
  
“No such luck, Granger. What I don’t understand is why there’s such a fuss about it. Apart from the fact that it is government property.”  
  
Jamieson shook his head, running slender fingers through light blonde hair. “I don’t know what the fuss is either. I say...just leave it wherever it is. I have enough items to have to keep track of without having to worry about one more.” He sighed. “You did talk to Pierre about...?”  
  
Jason nodded slowly. “Yes. I told him about the prophecy.” He fiddled with the brass buttons on his jacket. “He didn’t quite believe it.”  
  
Jamieson laughed. “I wouldn’t either if I were in his position.”  
  
The elder Bouvier grimaced. “He should. It’s the whole reason he’s in danger. He needs to be careful. Especially since they apparently got shot at the other day...Chuck was wounded...”  
  
“Shit.” The older man shot a sharp look at him. “Why wasn’t I informed?”  
  
Jason frowned. “Pierre only told me yesterday. But, then he said something odd. He said that it was all sorted...I’m not sure what he meant by that.”  
  
Jamieson sighed. “Well, I guess we won’t know unless he explains.”  
  
“Which won’t happen. He’s too busy.”  
  
“Heh, to be in a band touring the world, eh?”  
  
Jason smirked. “That lifestyle isn’t for me. I’m too much of a homebody.”  
  
“Pierre isn’t?”  
  
“He loves coming home...but he loves travelling just as much.”  
  
“Lucky that, it’d be pretty unfortunate in his career line to hate travelling.”  
  
Jason rubbed his hands together. “True that.”  
  
Jamieson folded his arms and stared up at the painting. “Hey, Jason. How long has this been here?”  
  
The younger man looked at the portrait and smirked. “Jonathan put that up. He found it at an antique shop. It’s quite an old painting, obviously. It was commissioned in the 1800’s. He fell in love with it. Amazing picture really. All the colour and attention to detail...”  
  
“The Angel Gabriel...he named his son after him, eh?”  
  
Jason smirked. “Yeah, and it’s true. Gabriel is a little angel...I’ve never known a sweeter kid.”  
  
“Heh, don’t you think he’ll lose that, being with Pierre?”  
  
“No. Pierre’s sweeter than I am.”  
  
Jamieson laughed. “True...but that’s not too hard.”  
  
“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” The Lt-Col pretended to be affronted.  
  
The older man waved his hand at him. “Nothing. You’re great as you are. And, anyway...when push comes to shove, I reckon that brother of yours can be tough enough.”  
  
Jason rubbed his arms. “I hope so. Because, he’s going to need to be...”  
  
“Hopefully not too much...where are they off to after Japan?”  
  
Jason scratched his jaw. “Singapore, then Paris. I haven’t received their entire schedule yet.”  
  
“Well, make sure you do and soon. That way if anything happens we might be able to get our operatives into place.”  
  
“Should I inform LAD as well?”  
  
“I believe their agent will keep them in touch with what’s going on.”  
  
“Okay.” Jason turned to go back to his office.  
  
Jamieson stopped him. “By the way...if you could see fit to do so...try and find out what your brother was going on about.”  
  
“About the shooting?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Jason nodded. “I’ll do my best, sir.”  
  
“Very good. Well, I have to leave, I have another state meeting to attend.” Jamieson shook his head. “It’s all I do these days...”  
  
“Well, Granger...it’s early days. Hah, maybe they’re seriously considering you for the top position.”  
  
He shook his head. “I hope not...I don’t think I’d want to do this on a permanent basis.”  
  
“Well, you’re doing a good job. I’ll talk to you later.”  
  
They nodded to each other and parted ways.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **CSS HQ  
  
Noon**_  
  
The Captain twirled a pen between his fingers as he stared at the new photo pinned on his noticeboard. Pierre Bouvier stared out at him, deep brown eyes warm, yet impersonal, expression almost serious. The senior CSS executive could see why fans found him attractive.  
  
Pity, for the mainly female fans, that he was gay -- homosexual. The Captain laughed harshly. And soon to be dead if everything went according to plan. Still, it was early days yet.  
  
He smeared a hand over his face and leaned back on his chair, glancing down at several other photos of the young man.  
  
Several shots gave The Captain a very detailed view of the sleeve tattoo on Pierre’s left arm. They were images that his researchers had found on Pierre’s official MySpace page on the Internet. The artwork was amazingly detailed and colourful. The design incorporated colourful red, orange and pink flowers along with a Koi carp on his upper arm and the face of a Buddha on his forearm.  
  
The Captain had read the web log on Pierre’s MySpace explaining the meaning behind the design. The carp stood for strength and perseverance in times of adversity; the Buddha was a symbol of his belief in karma and reincarnation. The flowers were just an extra touch to give the tattoo depth and colour.  
  
 _Very ‘new age’...very different..._  
  
The Captain wasn’t used to seeing tattoos with such obscure meanings. However, somehow Pierre’s ink suited his profile. He lifted the file of information that his young informant had gleaned so far.  
  
 _Mickey Browne...so eager to please..._  The Captain smirked.  _And those poor guys have no clue...all the better..._  
  
He flipped open the report. It had been automatically dictated and printed out for him when the young cadet had contacted him directly.  
  
 _...the band is currently in Japan...and will be here for the next three or so days...then they will be going to Singapore for three, four days. After that is Europe, Paris. That is all I know so far. The boy is very quiet and spends most of the time with his guardian; however, when they are busy with interviews...he usually sits with a member of the band’s crew and me.  
  
It’s only real early in the operation, sir...but the drummer, Chuck Comeau, appears to trust me already. The others in the band seem indifferent including the boy’s guardian. However, I will work at gaining all their trust before making our next move. Agent 78 said it was essential that I become a firm part of their team before we take the next step._  
  
The Captain slapped the file shut and leaned back against his chair. All he could do now was wait for further developments, until then any action on his part would take a back seat to everything else. Sighing, he shook his head and pushed the photos back so he could gaze at the prophecy once more.  
  
 _The end of the world is nigh...when the clouds turn red...and the sun sets lower in the sky...and the first born of Satan comes into his own..._  
  
The Captain shivered and glanced out the window, almost as if he were expecting large blood red clouds to roll pass. Laughing self-consciously, and raking his fingers through his hair, he turned back to the document and read over it once again. The quiet closing in around him as he sank deep into thought.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **Saturday 31st 2007  
  
Tokyo  
  
Noon  
  
Exclusive Acoustic Performance**_  
  
Pierre sat with arms folded, scowling at Pat who was attempting to get young Mickey to help with the Merch.  
  
“What?” Patrick frowned at the singer, as the young man was stacking shirts on a long bench at the back of the large room.  
  
Pierre just grumbled and looked away staring though the large glass double doors at the growing crowd of kids who would be entering the small venue for their first exclusive performance of the tour.  
  
Japanese fans were the best as far as Pierre was concerned. They were polite, but crazy, all at the same time. Their love for the band was so genuine and it was amazing to hear them singing along to the band’s songs even though many of them couldn’t speak English very well. It gave Pierre a spectacular buzz to perform for them.  
  
Stretching his neck muscles, he got up off the stool he was perched on and wandered over to join the two men. “Hey, Mick. How long have you been a fan?”  
  
Mickey glanced up at the bigger man and felt a slight chill. The expression in Pierre’s eyes was guarded, a glimmer of ice in their depths. He was wary and the lad could hardly blame him.  
  
He was basically a stranger whom Chuck had almost instantly trusted to join the team on tour.  
  
Sure, the drummer trusted people implicitly, but Mickey sensed that Pierre wasn’t so easily swayed. Mickey knew he was going to have to be extremely cautious about what he said, and how he said it. Still, he was an accomplished liar. In his position, he had to be.  
  
“Since the beginning.” He smirked. “I loved your first album. And I’ve seen you guys live a few times.”  
  
Pierre lifted an eyebrow a strange light in his dark eyes. “Really? Where at?”  
  
Mickey hesitated for a split second. “Uh...at the Troubadour when you performed for AOL in July 2005.”  
  
Pierre smirked faintly, eyes narrowing; knowing instantly that the young man was lying to him. But there was no need for Mickey to realise that he knew that.  
  
“Yeah. That was a great gig.” He pinched his bottom lip softly a thought passing through his mind.  _You’re good, kid...but you got the month wrong...wonder what other lies you’re going to tell me..._  
  
Mickey blinked then turned back to the pile of tops. It was a little unnerving having Pierre watching him so closely. He felt that perhaps the singer could read him better than he’d thought and that was a little frightening.  
  
Pat glowered at Pierre and pushed him away. “Leave him be, you’re making him nervous.”  
  
Pierre laughed and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him close so he could nibble on his earlobe. “How am I doing that, babe?”  
  
Pat growled and shoved him away. “Jesus, Pierre...the kids can see us...”  
  
“Hmph let them see. I’m done hiding my sexuality from people.”  
  
Mickey blinked again.  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “Well, then think about young Mick here. He probably doesn’t wanna see you chewing on my ear.”  
  
“If he’s hungry maybe he should get some food?” Mickey smirked having recovered from his initial reaction.  
  
Pierre laughed roughly. “Yeah. Sure. How ‘bout you go get it then.”  
  
Mickey flinched, backing off. Pierre most definitely didn’t trust him. It was obvious to him now. He kept moving until he was leaning against the table. The singer grunted and turned away looking toward the door leading out to the dressing rooms.  
  
It swung open and Gabriel ran in. “Hey!  _Tonton_  Pierre!”  
  
Pierre’s eyes brightened, and he smiled, the expression softening his features considerably. “Hey there, Gabe...where’ve you been?”  
  
The boy grinned. “With Anna.”  
  
He waved back toward the door. Annalise walked through pushing her hair out of her face, mauve eyes sparkling.  
  
“Hey, just thought I’d keep your nephew occupied while you were setting up. The rest of the guys are coming in a minute.” She rolled her eyes. “David takes longer than me to get ready...”  
  
Pierre chuckled. “He can be a real girl, sometimes.”  
  
He stared hard at the woman then looked away feigning sudden nonchalance. Annalise lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and sat on the stool he’d vacated.  
  
 _Have something you want to say, Pierre?_  
  
Pierre walked over to sit on the other stool, absently fiddling with the laminate clipped to his belt.  _Maybe...what were you doing with Gabe?  
  
Well, actually...he was running his English and French vocab by me...he’s a smart kid._ Annalise smiled watching as Gabriel climbed up on the merch table and sat watching Pat and Mickey. There was a curious expression in his eyes as he watched the redhead.  _We were also talking about...that thing that happened in the airport...when we arrived here..._  
  
Pierre stiffened.  _That healing thing?  
  
Yeah...  
  
Has that anything to do with the prophecy?_ Annalise turned her head and blinked at him. Pierre cocked an eyebrow, speaking out loud. “What is it?”  
  
She laughed self-consciously and looked away again.  _Jason told you?  
  
Yeah. He did. Remember, he called when we were at the restaurant on Thursday.  
  
Yeah...you got upset...and you saw your aura..._Annalise braced her hands on her knees.  
  
Pierre rubbed his thumb along his bottom lip.  _So...about the healing thing...what were you talking about?_  
  
Annalise looked across at him an odd look in her eyes.  _He can only heal...other people...or...beings...but...you..._ she halted and drew away just as the rest of the band arrived.  
  
Pierre scowled.  _Me? What about me?_  
  
Annalise stood and moved away, glancing back once.  _You know. You know about you. Just...remember..._  
  
The singer took a deep breath, head tilted to one side.  _Remember...remember what?_  
  
Annalise just smiled.  _It’ll come to you..._  
  
Pierre hunched up his shoulders then let them relax, also getting to his feet. There was no time for him to ponder what she had just said. It was almost time for the show to begin. He noticed that Pat, Mickey and Gabriel had moved right to the back, sitting by the merch table.  
  
Pat had his camera out. Mickey was just leaning back on a chair, arms folded, watching. And Gabriel was leaning forward on his chair, swinging his legs. Annalise went to join them, sliding down next to Gabe’s chair.  
  
Pierre turned away and walked over to Chuck. “Ready?”  
  
Chuck glanced at his best friend and grinned, tapping his drumsticks against his left thigh. “Yeah. I’m ready. This is going to be great.”  
  
Pierre raked his fingers through his hair, grinning back. “Yeah, it’s about time, eh. We’ve been off the circuit for so long...”  
  
David poked his head over his shoulder, bouncing a little. “It’s gonna be crazy!”  
  
Pierre laughed and shoved him back gently. “Only because you’re here.”  
  
Chuck snorted. Jeff and Sebastien took their places chuckling away at the banter between their friends.  
  
The singer rolled his eyes and turned to look toward the glass doors, motioning to the security. “Let them in.” He licked his lips. “Let’s get this show on the road.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **Tokyo Hotel  
  
Room 315  
  
5 PM**_  
  
Pierre lay on his back cell phone pressed between his shoulder and his left ear. Pat was lying next to him, absently stroking a hand through his scruffy black hair. Pierre was listening intently to the person on the other end of the line, forehead creased into a soft frown. His deep brown eyes were clouded.  
  
“Uhuh...so...Jamieson is going to send someone to keep an eye on us? Why waste resources like that? I can take care of Gabe myself. Look, we’re travelling around the world. We do have some security anyway, particularly when we’re out in public.” Pierre groaned, smearing a hand over his face.  
  
He shifted closer to his lover’s body. Pat threw an arm around his waist, tucking his chin against Pierre’s right shoulder. Nuzzling against him, he half-listened to the half-conversation.  
  
“What? No. I already said I’m not telling you about that. The less people who know...the better off we are.” Pierre grunted. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Jay. It’s just...you wouldn’t believe it.” He stifled a yawn. “Yah...changing time zones are a real bitch...it’s only 5 PM here...but my body clock is all outta whack...” He chuckled. “Yeah, actually it’s been good. The fans here are amazingly sweet...but can be real crazy too...yeh, exactly. But, hey I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Best buzz ever.”  
  
He paused then shifted again. “Look. I’ll try and keep ya posted. And I will get Chuck to send you our complete itinerary. But, other than that, there’s nothing else I can do.” He rubbed at his cheek, then rested his arm on the pillow behind Pat’s head. “Yeah...you too. And, if you hear from Maman...tell her I love her.”  
  
Clicking the phone off, Pierre tossed it on top of his clothes and rolled over so he was facing Pat.  
  
“What’d Jason want?”  
  
Pierre just brought his hands up to cradle his face, pressing a light kiss to his mouth. “Nothin’ important...”  
  
Pat kissed back, but then pulled back staring at his boyfriend in earnest. “Seriously, babe. What did he want?”  
  
Pierre sighed, massaging a hand down his arm. “He wants our itinerary...and I guess he was just checking up on how things were going with Gabe.”  
  
“How  _are_  things going? I mean he spends more time with Chuck and Annalise than he does with you.” Pat took hold of Pierre’s hand and squeezed it.  
  
The older man sighed. “I don’t know how to entertain an eight year old. I’m not so good with kids...”  
  
“Hah, even though you’re like a big kid yourself? You’ve gotta be shitting me. If you’d just relax and forget for a little that, you’re his legal guardian... and stop being so fucking serious.”  
  
Pierre groaned and rolled onto his back. “Fuck, this isn’t a walk in the park, babe. If you’ve not forgotten, I have to protect him, otherwise the CSS will take him away from me.”  
  
Pat shivered. “They’d have to kill you first...”  
  
Pierre grunted and lifted both his hands, clutching at his hair. “I don’t even wanna think about the possibility of that happening...”  
  
Pat grabbed his shoulder, pulling him close. “Then don’t think about it.”  
  
The bigger man jerked away and turned onto his other side, staring across to the single bed where Gabriel was sleeping. The little boy looked so calm and relaxed, in complete contrast to how Pierre felt.  
  
“I have to...” His voice was strained. “I can’t...let my guard down.”  _At least until I remember what happened in Las Vegas..._  
  
He took a deep shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Pat moved closer, wrapping his arms around Pierre’s waist, pressing light kisses across his back.  
  
Pierre sighed and reached down to grasp one of his hands. “Patrick...”  
  
“Mhm...?”  
  
“Just...hold me...”  
  
Pat tightened his arms around him and rested his cheek against Pierre’s broad back. “I’ll hold you forever, baby...”  
  
Pierre smiled sleepily and closed his eyes a little, mumbling. “Damn time zones...I’m fucked...”  
  
Pat chuckled and nuzzled into his neck. “Then go to sleep...I’ll wake you when it’s time to go...”  
  
“Go where?” The singer muttered as he began to drift.  
  
“Dinner...we’re going out on the town...remember? Last night in Tokyo...going to Singapore tomorrow...”  
  
“Oh, yeah...” Pierre yawned, letting his eyes shut completely. “Wake me...”  
  
“Sure thing, babe.”  
  
Pat pulled the blanket up over their bodies and snuggled down falling asleep soon after.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Spots of light faded into his consciousness as he woke from his sleep. Sunlight filtered down on a grassy glade.  
  
Pierre sat up frowning faintly. “What the hell? Where am I?”  
  
“I guess you could say you’re dreaming...”  
  
Pierre turned to see who had spoken. He blinked. “Patrick?”  
  
He frowned looking closely at the figure sitting close by. He definitely looked like Pat, but there was something different about him. He was glowing, his blue aura brighter than ever; and he was dressed strangely. He wore a long white robe with a purple sash draped over his left shoulder. He went bare foot.  
  
The man smiled. “Yeah...in your current incarnation you know me as Pat. But here...I go by the name Samiel...confusing, eh.”  
  
Pierre scrunched up his face. “You said I was dreaming.”  
  
Samiel shrugged. “Easier to explain than the other thing...”  
  
“What other thing?”  
  
“Well, this isn’t really a dream...you’re in the Realm of the Angels of Heaven...but that’s a bit hard to believe, eh?”  
  
Pierre shivered. “You’re an angel?”  
  
Samiel nodded. “Yes, and it’s my job to give your memory a jump.”  
  
Pierre looked away uncertain whether he liked that prospect, but then he had been praying for a little insight. Perhaps this was how his prayer was going to be answered. Still it all seemed a little surreal to him; maybe he really was dreaming.  
  
“Are you Pat? Or do you just look like him.”  
  
“I am Patrick, insofar that I am his perfect angel incarnation. Of course you’d be wondering how I could exist now...but then again time is only an illusion. You do believe in reincarnation?”  
  
Pierre flopped back on his back. “Yeah, I do...”  
  
“Well then. I am Patrick reincarnated.”  
  
“But...Pat’s not dead...”  
  
“Like I said, time is an illusion...it folds back on itself. There are lots of different realities...but then again...angels have their own ways.”  
  
Pierre rubbed his hands over his face. “Explain?”  
  
Samiel chuckled. “I would, but I don’t know if you’re ready for that.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Well, I’d have to show you, your past incarnations...”  
  
Pierre snorted. “I’m game.”  
  
The angel that looked like Pat tilted his head to the side. “Are you sure, Pierre? It will be extremely eye-opening.”  
  
Pierre crossed his legs, bracing his hands on his ankles. “If it’ll explain the shit that’s going to happen...then yes. I’m sure.”  
  
Samiel sighed. “Alright then...I’ll take you back to the beginning...best place to start...oh...and by the way...we’ll take this one ‘dream’ at a time...you have to be awake so you can go out with the rest of the band.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “I’d forego that...”  
  
“Well, you need to be on the plane to Singapore tomorrow.”  
  
Pierre grunted. “Just get on with it...”  
  
Samiel chuckled. “Oh, one more thing...I must warn you...you may feel a little strange...you’re not the person you think you are...”  
  
“Just get on with it...”  
  
Samiel moved so he was floating behind Pierre; Pierre stiffened. The angel smiled softly. “Just relax...and close your eyes...trust me...”  
  
Breathing out steadily, Pierre did as he instructed, relaxing his body allowing his mind to calm.  
  
 _ **Kingdom of Heaven  
  
Beginning of the World**_  
  
 _“It is not my fault the Woman ate of the fruit from the tree!” Lucifer railed pointlessly as he and his minions were cast from the Almighty’s Kingdom.  
  
The once powerful Archangel was now reduced to becoming the earthly lord of the dead. He was absolutely furious and swung round to the eldest of his sons as they hovered before the great gates. A dark angel he was, brooding and powerful.  
  
“Raphael...what do you propose I do?”  
  
Raphael’s dark eyes shone with a menace that even the Fallen Angel himself could not match. “You are the lord of death, father. You could use that to your purpose...judge those who are not worthy...and send them to the pits of Hell...and test and reward the one’s who are...so that they return to the Almighty.”  
  
Lucifer growled. “What good will that do us?”  
  
Raphael smirked. “Perhaps if we work at it long enough it will make up for our error...and we will be permitted to return.”  
  
The Fallen Angel swung away and floated back and forth. “Do you hear what they call me on the other side of the gates?”  
  
Raphael sighed heavily, folding his arms, his golden red aura pulsing savagely. “Satan, The Devil...let them, it will add fuel to the fire.”  
  
Lucifer nodded, his own golden aura flashing brightly. “And what will you do whilst I’m doing this?”  
  
Raphael shrugged.  
  
However, his twin, Samiel moved up close next to him draping an arm round his shoulders. “Aniel and I, have a plan...”  
  
Raphael scowled.  
  
Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Your last plan almost got us kicked out of Heaven...”  
  
Raphael snorted. “Actually it did.”  
  
The Fallen Angel blinked. “You bastard! You gave me the idea about the apple?”  
  
Samiel backed off, looking only slightly repentant.  
  
Raphael shimmered. “Well, you did say it wasn’t your fault, father.”  
  
Lucifer just sighed again. “What’s the plan then, Samiel?”  
  
The angel rubbed his hands together, blue aura swirling excitedly. “You’re gonna love this!”  
  
Raphael grumbled. “Sure...like we always do...”  
  
“No, no...you’re really - ”  
  
“Just tell us already,” Raphael snarled, the red in his aura darkening.  
  
Samiel shifted nervously his blue aura fluctuating. He knew that annoying his twin was stupid so he bit his bottom lip and spoke out. "Well, I say we all evolve into human consciousness...and try and fix the problem from amongst them.”  
  
Raphael’s aura sparked in his shock. “What? No way! I am not going to - ”  
  
Lucifer cut him off grinning. “Genius! Samiel that is the best idea I’ve heard yet!”  
  
His eldest son grunted. “You’re joking surely?”  
  
“Raphael, would I be calling your brother a genius if I was?”  
  
“True. You wouldn’t joke about that...”  
  
Samiel came up to his twin and squeezed his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Raph...we’ll stick together...you can keep an eye on me...”  
  
“Great...I get to baby sit...”  
  
Lucifer laughed. “Ah, my son...you are destined for greater things than that, never fear.”  
  
Raphael growled. “Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we. Brothers?” He held out his hands.  
  
The four other young angels (Aniel, Michael, Gabriel and Raziel) present joined hands with the twins. The Fallen angel drew back watching them as they closed their eyes and a blinding white light swirled around them vanishing them from the Realm of the Angels..._  
  
“Open your eyes, Pierre...”  
  
Pierre’s eyes snapped open to find himself back in the glade. He groaned and rubbed his hands across his face. “Shit...I...I’m...” He shook his head.  _No...I can’t be...Annalise said I was only half-angel...what? She said that? Am I remembering..._  He moaned as something unlocked inside his mind. Then he glanced at Samiel who was now lying on the grass next to him. “You’re...you’re my twin?”  
  
“Heh...yeh...twin souls. That’s why we’re attracted to each other...and no it’s not incest...twin soul’s means that we are _meant_  to be together.” The angel smiled. “You’re Raphael, son of Lucifer.”  
  
“The Devil’s my father?” Pierre groaned. “Shit...can’t be true.”  
  
Samiel just smiled. “Ah, well...you’ll get used to the idea...now...I suggest you...uh...wake up.”  
  
“What? But I am - ”  
  
“No, Pierre...you need to wake up...”  
  
“But...I still don’t understand...”  
  
“You will, but you need to wake up...”  
  
“...wake up...Pierre, WAKE UP!” Pat shook Pierre’s shoulder hard.  
  
The big man groaned and his eyes peeled open; this time he was back in the hotel room, feeling groggy. “Sam-Pat?”  
  
“Sam?” Pat shook his head. “I’m Pat, get up...we have to go.”  
  
Pierre sat up and screwed up his face. “I had a weird dream...”  
  
“Yeah? Tell me about it on the way...come on, get up.”  
  
Grumbling the singer rolled off the bed and grabbed his clothes pulling them on quickly and jamming on his shoes. “Okay, okay...I’m up...let’s go...”  
  
Pat made for the door. Pierre cursed as he buckled his belt and ran his hands through his hair before heading out the door the last trails of his dream still floating in his mind. Strange things...strange happenings...time enough later to think about it.

 


	8. The dance of the little green men...

_**Singapore  
  
Sunday December 1st 2007  
  
Holiday Inn  
  
9 PM**_  
  
Gabriel sat in the hotel lobby watching as the guys lugged their gear through the front entrance. Pierre was right at the back, dragging both his and Pat’s bags across the floor. Somewhere  _en route_ , Pat’s suitcase had lost one of its wheels so it no longer rolled.  
  
The little boy couldn’t help but giggle as his uncle cursed in his mind at the bags and at everything else in general.  _Stupid fuckin’ piece of shit..._  
  
Pierre came to a halt and wiped the back of his hand across his face. He noticed his nephew watching and rolled his eyes in his direction then turned to Pat who came waltzing in behind him, camera clutched in his hand.  
  
Gabriel just giggled again then turned his sights to the others. Annalise stood with David and Seb chatting about what they liked about Singapore. Jeff and Chuck were at the reception desk, booking in.  
  
A small frown flickered across his young face as Mickey left the group and went to stand behind a pole. The new guy was odd, and Gabriel didn’t quite know what to think of him. He seemed okay, but he wasn’t quite comfortable having him around.  
  
Climbing off the bench that he was sitting on, Gabriel walked over to see what he was doing. The redhead didn’t notice him as he crouched near by. He was whispering quietly into what looked like a walkie-talkie. Gabriel tilted his head; Mickey’s aura had cleared a little. It was a cloudy sea-blue, just a shade darker than Patrick’s. However, the central core of his aura appeared a little off, there was something wrong there.  
  
Gabriel crept closer then scowled as he heard the voice issuing from the walkie-talkie  _“Mickey, change of plans. We have to make a move now. There is no way we’d get the operatives to Paris in time, and we have no idea what the rest of the band’s schedule is. So, we’re doing this tomorrow. You had better be in place, I don’t want them to accidentally kill you. Make sure the boy and his guardian have been separated from the rest of the group...no need for the band to be wiped out. And under no circumstance is the boy to be harmed. Do you understand?”_  
  
“Yes, sir. The boy is not to be harmed. Where exactly...?”  
  
 _“Near the hotel there is a sculpture of three men-shaped objects...they’re green, very hard to miss...do not screw this up. You know what will happen if you do.”_  
  
Gabriel watched as Mickey’s aura darkened.  
  
“Yes, sir. I will not fail.”  
  
 _“See to it you don’t. The Captain wants the boy alive. I will contact you once the job is done. Over and out.”_  
  
As Mickey tucked the walkie-talkie back into his jeans, Gabriel moved silently back to his seat. His heart pounding in his chest, he squeezed his hands between his legs, swinging his feet.  
  
Pierre glanced over from the reception desk, hauling his and Pat’s bags over he sat next to his nephew. “Bored, Gabe?”  
  
Gabriel looked at him then looked across to Mickey who was walking back to join the guys. “He’s bad...”  
  
Pierre grimaced. “Who?”  
  
“Mickey...there’s something...bad about him...”  
  
“Kid, he’s just...”  
  
“Bad. You don’t like him, do you,  _Tonton_  Pierre.”  
  
Pierre leaned back, crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t say that, kid. I just...don’t trust him.”  
  
Gabriel stuck out his bottom lip. “That’s the adult way of saying you don’t like him.”  
  
Pierre laughed. “You got me there, Gabe.”  
  
The boy looked down then spoke silently.  _He...was talking on a walkie-talkie...I...listened..._  
  
Pierre rubbed at his bottom lip, glancing at his nephew askance.  _You shouldn’t do that; it’s rude to listen to other people’s private calls._  
  
 _But, they were talking about me...and you, Tonton Pierre._  
  
Pierre stiffened, his fingers tightening on the strap of his bag.  _What?  
  
Those people...who want me...I think Mickey’s one of them..._  
  
Pierre closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Strangely, he believed what Gabriel said, it made perfect sense; it would explain why the young man was always so nervous around him. And would explain why Pierre didn’t trust him. He’d sensed something about Mickey almost straight away. And now here was the truth behind those feelings.  
  
 _If you’re right..._  He shook his head.  _What was said?_  
  
Gabriel looked down at his shoes. Pat had bought him a pair of black and white Chucks like Pierre’s favourite pair.  _They’re gonna kill you, Tonton Pierre...and...they’re gonna take me..._  
  
Gabriel shifted closer to his uncle.  
  
Pierre wrapped an arm around his little shoulders. “Not whilst I’m here, they won’t...” he whispered tightly. “I’ll fight them...” He straightened and brought his fists up. “Like this!”  
  
His nephew giggled. “But they prob’ly have guns...and they wanna kill you.”  
  
Pierre clenched his jaw. “I’ll think of something.” He dug his hand into his pocket, then frowned, withdrawing the silver pin. It was glowing and felt hot in the palm of his hand. “Jeeze...what’s up with this?”  
  
Gabriel scrunched up his face. “Dunno...Never did that before.”  
  
His uncle glowered and shoved it back into the pocket, before anyone else saw it. “Right. Well. Maybe I’ll have a little chat with Mick. What do you think?”  
  
His nephew just shrugged.  
  
Pierre patted him on the shoulder. “Okay, maybe I’ll wait until after we unpack. C’mon, we better go get our room key.”  
  
Gabriel jumped off the bench, glad to be thinking and doing something. He traipsed over to where Pat was standing holding the key to the room he, Pierre and Gabe would be sharing.  
  
“Oncle Pat! What floor are we on?”  
  
Pat grinned. “The 12th floor. Our room is next to...Mickey’s...right?”  
  
He glanced at Mickey who nodded slightly, attempting to ignore the slightly suspicious look that the little boy was affording him. “Yep. Don’t worry, kid. I won’t be too noisy.”  
  
Pierre joined them, scowling at the red head.  _That’s not what’s bothering him...or me..._  
  
Mickey blinked at the singer, face impassive. Then he smiled crookedly and walked away toward the elevator bay. Pat rolled his eyes and followed. The rest of the group slowly made their way after them, chatting aimlessly. They were all too tired to really focus on anything.  
  
The next day was a full one, several interviews and exclusive radio performances on the schedule. And so, really all that any of them wanted to do was crash for the night.  
  
 _ **Pierre and Pat’s Hotel Room  
  
9:50 PM**_  
  
“Show me.” Pat leaned forward on a chair, a curious expression in his eyes.  
  
Gabriel and Pierre sat on the end of the bed, the little boy holding the silver pin carefully in the palm of his hand. Once the three of them had entered the room, and stripped to their boxers, Pierre had removed it from his jeans pocket where it had continued glowing the entire time.  
  
Pat blinked rapidly. “Shit...how is it doing that?”  
  
Gabriel looked down.  
  
Pierre laughed. “That’s not the half of it.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“Gabe...show him.”  
  
His nephew glanced at him. “ _Tonton_  Pierre...”  
  
Pierre smiled faintly, remembering his odd dream, which probably wasn’t a dream. “It’s okay. This is meant to happen. Show him.”  
  
Gabriel took a deep breath and held the pin out; it began to glow even more, humming as it began to grow. Pat’s eyes widened, but to his credit, he made no sound or comment. His gaze was riveted upon the object as it lengthened into the long staff that Pierre had only seen once before.  
  
For several moments after, Pat remained silent and then he grinned, dawning recognition on his face. “ _Gabriel’s Rod_...”  
  
Pierre blinked. “Pardon?”  
  
Pat rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve seen that before.”  
  
“But, you couldn’t have. There’s nothing else like it, anywhere.”  
  
Pat smiled faintly. “Pierre. You’re not the only one with secrets. I’ve seen that before. In a past life of mine.”  
  
Gabriel’s eyebrows lifted.  
  
Pierre scowled. “You don’t even believe in that.”  
  
“Did I ever say that?”  
  
“Um...no...”  
  
“Well, then how can you possibly assume that I don’t believe in reincarnation?”  
  
Pierre just looked away. “What past life?”  
  
Pat leaned back on his chair. “Oh...before history even began...” He chuckled. “You called me Sam last night...short for Samiel, right?”  
  
Pierre just stared at him.  
  
Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. “I dreamed that same night...same dream...but I was Samiel.”  
  
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”  
  
Pat shrugged. “I don’t know...” He looked down at his hands, reluctant to respond. “Maybe because I was...still a little mad at you...for y’know...the whole Vegas thing.” Not that he’d ever really been angry; he’d only let everyone believe that he was. It was a whole lot easier than revealing the truth.  
  
Pierre sighed. Gabriel made the staff shrink into the silver pin again, leaning over to tuck it into his uncle’s jeans.  
  
“So.  _Gabriel’s Rod_...what does that mean?”  
  
Pat got up off the chair and joined them on the bed. “It belongs to the Archangel Gabriel.” He paused then looked at Pierre’s nephew. “You are...his mortal incarnation.”  
  
Gabriel blinked. “I’m the angel Gabriel?”  
  
Pierre scratched at his head. “You will be, right?”  
  
Pat nodded slowly. “He was, and will be again. As you are Raphael...and I am Samiel. Remember the past life dream?”  
  
“ _Merde_...I’m still trying to get used to that fact.” Pierre shook his head. “If only I could remember everything.”  
  
“Did Anna say you would?”  
  
“She did. But I’ve a feeling she doesn’t know everything herself.” He hesitated then looked at his boyfriend. “How long have you known?”  
  
Patrick went beet red, staring at the floor. “Long before you even went to Vegas...” He hunched up his shoulders. “Long before we ever got together, actually...”  
  
“What? You knew? All that time? Damn...you sure can keep a secret...”  
  
Pat nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess I can. Heh, I knew for a long time, at  _least_  seven years. It’s the reason we became friends... why I was attracted to you in the first place. I mean other than the fact that you’re hot ‘n’ all.”  
  
Pierre smirked. “Heh, you’re the hot one of us, Patrick.”  
  
“ _Tonton_  Pierre!”  
  
“Oh, sorry, Gabe. But I can’t help being in love with him.”  
  
Gabriel screwed up his face. “As long as you don’t do that kissy thing in front of me...”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes then glanced back at Pat. "You said ‘at least’ seven years?”  
  
His lover chuckled. “Well, if we were going to go back through past lives...it’d be millennia. But, that’s a bit hard to imagine, eh?”  
  
“Yeah, true that.” He took a deep breath. “Shit. I vote we change the subject...my brain’s about to explode.”  
  
Pat laughed. Gabriel piped up, then remembering the situation down in the lobby.  
  
“What are you gonna do about Mickey?”  
  
Pierre groaned. “Crap...Pat, Gabe overheard the kid talking to somebody about me and Gabe...something that the CSS (I assume) are going to do...”  
  
“Tomorrow,” Gabriel added.  
  
Pierre looked at him. “Tomorrow?”  
  
“Yes...they’re gonna do it tomorrow.”  
  
Pat frowned, looking thoroughly confused. The change in topic was not what he expected. “Do what?”  
  
Pierre lay back on the bed staring up at the ceiling. “They’re going to kill me...and take Gabe...”  
  
“Crap...what are you going to do?”  
  
Pierre pressed his hand over his eyes. “No idea.”  
  
“Maybe you should sleep on it?”  
  
“Yeah...” He yawned loudly. “I’ll talk to Mickey tomorrow...before breakfast...”  
  
“Sounds like a plan...” Pat moved to lie next to him.  
  
Gabriel paused then scrambled up to lie between them. “I’m scared. Can I sleep with you, tonight?”  
  
The men glanced at each other, and then Pierre smiled. “Of course. Plenty of room.”  
  
Pat nodded and squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “You’re safe with us, kid.”  
  
Gabriel snuggled down and almost instantly fell asleep. Pierre and Pat stayed awake a little longer just looking at each other until their eyelids drooped and they slipped into a dreamless slumber.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **Monday December 2nd, 2007  
  
9 AM**_  
  
The next morning, Pierre got up relatively early, quickly getting dressed, as quietly as possible so as not to wake Pat or Gabriel. Grabbing his wallet and phone, he slipped out of the room and walked the several steps to the room next to theirs.  
  
Staring at the door, he frowned deeply, and then took several paces back until he was leaning against the opposite wall. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and waited. He knew that the red head was an early riser. So, he figured that now was a good time to confront him about what Gabe had overheard the day before.  
  
After about fifteen minutes, he could hear movement on the other side of the door. Then it opened and Mickey came out of his room, looking slightly dishevelled. He almost walked passed Pierre before he realised he was standing there.  
  
“Mickey.”  
  
Mickey turned to look at the singer, who was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He took in the bigger man’s appearance. He was wearing a new Role Model T-shirt, a pair of black denim jeans and his favourite pair of Chuck Taylor’s. Neat but casual. The expression on his face was unreadable.  
  
“Um, good morning.”  
  
Pierre smirked wryly. “It will be, once I’m done talking with you.” He pushed away from the wall and stepped closer to the younger man.  
  
Mickey frowned, swallowing nervously. “Um...sure? What about?”  
  
Pierre just looked at him, eyes narrowed, lips pressed together tightly.  
  
Raking his fingers through his hair, he then motioned down the hallway. “Let’s go for a walk.”  
  
Of course, Mickey couldn’t refuse. He didn’t want to be impolite; after all, he was employed by the band to do a job. So, in a way, Pierre was one of his bosses. Still, it was a little unsettling being with him, alone, especially since he was on an entirely different job, which could -- would -- result in Pierre’s death.  
  
Pushing those thoughts back, he walked next to the older man, wondering what he wanted to talk about.  
  
Pierre remained silent for several metres down the corridor, gathering his thoughts, cautious of how he began. He glanced sideways at the redhead. He seemed so, innocent looking, like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.  
  
Yet, he was beginning to realise what with all the strange things that had already happened, that you couldn’t judge a book by its cover. No matter how cliché that sounded, it was true.  
  
“Having a good time so far?” Pierre finally said something, keeping his tone light.  
  
Mickey smiled warily. “Yeah, it’s been great so far. Really busy, though. How do you manage not to go insane?”  
  
Pierre chuckled dryly. “Who said that I’m not insane already?”  
  
Mickey chuckled then looked at the floor, rubbing at his temple.  
  
Pierre squinted. “Hey, you took your bandage off...”  
  
“Yeah, actually been off since Friday.”  
  
Pierre nodded slowly. “Do you mind me asking how you hurt it?”  
  
Mickey replied stiffly, his heart rate increasing. “I had an accident, pretty stupid really. Doing jumps on my skateboard.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah, really.”  
  
Pierre came to a stop, abruptly grabbed the younger man by the shoulder and shoved him up against the wall. “How ‘bout you stop lying to me.”  
  
Mickey’s mouth went dry, he swallowed hard, eyes widening. “What?”  
  
Pierre leaned close, jaw clenched together, eyes blazing. “You’re lying to me. I don’t know how I know that, but you are and I don’t like it. Tell me the truth.”  
  
“I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
Pierre growled and had this sudden urge to smash Mickey’s head against the wall. He grabbed hold of his hair, inadvertently brushing his palm against his forehead and a sudden flood of understanding entered his mind.  
  
Pierre froze as myriad thoughts flowed into him from the boy. Mickey felt as if all his thoughts were being sucked out of him. Every little thing, every word that had been said to him, every little hurt that had been done to him.  
  
“No...” the word escaped Mickey’s lips in an involuntary whimper.  
  
Pierre squeezed his eyes shut, twisting his hand so it was pressed against Mickey’s forehead. He kept his other hand on the younger man’s shoulder, holding him in place. After several moments, Pierre jerked his hand away and glared at him. Mickey opened his mouth, wanting to explain but Pierre cut him off with a furious look.  
  
“You’re a goddamned CSS agent.” He trembled, rage sparking in his dark eyes. He leaned even closer. “You’re bosses want me dead, don’t they?”  
  
Mickey trembled just staring into Pierre’s cold eyes.  
  
Pierre snarled and slammed him against the wall, hard. “You might as well admit it, Mickey. I know everything, now.” He licked his lips. “They’re going to kill me...today. And take Gabriel from me. You’ve been in contact with them the whole fucking time! You’ve been slipping information to them and they’ve been getting you to spy on all of us.”  
  
Mickey shook his head hard. “You don’t understand why I’m doing this...” He touched his hand to his still aching forehead. He could still feel the lump where Agent 78 had knocked him out.  
  
Pierre just shook his head. “I don’t want to understand.” He groaned then shoved at the younger man again, before stepping back a little. “Get outta my sight before I kick your ass...” As Mickey ducked under his arm and backed away, Pierre added harshly, “Keep the fuck away from my nephew or I’ll make you wish you were never born.”  
  
He paused a strange thought coming to him. “And don’t even think of contacting the CSS...I’ll know if you have.”  _What the hell...how will I know...something else I’m remembering?_  
  
He also had no clue how he would make Mickey pay, but some natural born instinct deep within him had awakened. And he knew that he wouldn’t hold back if something happened to Gabriel.  
  
Mickey scurried away with his tail between his legs, like a dog that had been caught doing something it shouldn’t.  
  
As soon as he’d gone, Pierre turned and slid down onto the floor, back propped against the wall. He let his head drop into his hands and he moaned softly.  
  
His right hand was still tingling from whatever the hell he’d just done. And the knowledge of what was going to happen hung heavy in his mind. He knew everything. Well, at least everything Mickey had been told. It weighed on his mind, on his soul. He couldn’t keep it to himself...he needed to tell someone.  
  
Breathing in deeply, he dug into his pocket for his phone and flipped it open. Scrolling to the first name in the list, he hit the call button.  _Jay...you’d better freakin’ pick up...I need you now..._  
  
 _ **Toronto  
  
Jason’s Apartment  
  
(Sunday December 1st, 2007)  
  
8:30 PM**_  
  
Septimus yowled loudly as Jason’s phone began to ring piercingly throughout the small apartment. Jason walked into the kitchenette, scowling.  
  
“Stop that you silly old cat. I’ll get it, alright.”  
  
The ginger cat hissed.  _It’s your brother...and it’s urgent..._  
  
“You know this, how?” Jason picked up the phone and answered gruffly. “Bouvier, speaking. Oh, Pierre...Septimus said it was you... Yeah, the cat told me.”  
  
Septimus jumped off the bench and rubbed his body around the man’s legs. Jason bent down to scratch behind his ears.  
  
“I knew that wouldn’t surprise you. What’s up?” The older Bouvier frowned and walked around the bench, sitting on one of the bar stools. “What? Today? Shit...I don’t think we could get anyone there fast enough...no? You think you can handle it? What do you mean? There’s no way...you...”  
  
Jason blinked. “Huh? You’re what?”  
  
Septimus sat at his feet and looked up, lifting a paw to tap at his leg.  _He knows the truth...he knows he’s Raphael...Samiel went to him in a ‘real dream’._  
  
Jason nudged the cat in acknowledgement, still listening before asking, “Are you remembering more?” He chuckled. “You just found out you could read people’s minds? That’s how you found out about what the CSS are planning?”  
  
He scratched his head. “ _Merde_...that must’ve given you a headache.” He smirked. “Ah, yeah...I was, was I? Sounds eye-opening, I must say.” Jason yawned a little. “So, are you sure that you’ll be fine? I don’t want anything to happen to my little brother...yeah, great...rub it in, why don’t you? Hah, you be careful...and whatever you do...don’t let them take Gabe...yeah...I will...she wants you home for Christmas, though. Okay, I’ll let her know.”  
  
Hanging up, Jason swivelled on his chair, anxiety evident in his dark eyes. “Septimus. Is there anything at all that we can do?”  
  
The cat licked at his paws.  _Well, we could always enlist a little help from Bartimaeus._  
  
“But, Bart’s a dog...and there’s no way the guys could take a dog on tour with them.”  
  
 _Well, what about Delilah? She wouldn’t take up much room. And it’s not like she actually has to travel by plane..._  
  
Jason snorted, “I just said, no dogs.”  
  
Septimus yowled in frustration.  _Well, you asked for my advice...I’ve given it to you..._  
  
“Pierre has his own guardian...”  
  
 _Oh great, a tiger...that’ll be a real kicker on tour._  
  
Jason just laughed. “He have a name?”  
  
 _Sultan...because he thinks so highly of himself...I guess I could have a word with him..._  
  
“You would? And then what?”  
  
 _I guess another ‘real dream’ for your brother..._  
  
Jason shook his head. “Angels I think he can cope with...but talking tigers?”  
  
 _You coped with me..._  
  
“Not the first time...ten years ago...”  
  
Septimus purred and jumped up onto the bench, perching Sphinx-like in front of him.  _Well, you got used to it..._  
  
Jason nodded and scratched the cat behind the ears. “Indeed...indeed...well, we’ll see what happens...”  
  
 _ **Singapore  
  
Holiday Inn  
  
10 AM**_  
  
Annalise stood in front of the mirror in the small bathroom. She was carefully applying eye shadow to her left eyelid.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
She almost jumped a foot, before she realised it was only Patrick. “Hey...how’d you get in here?”  
  
She waited for the usual smart arse, ‘you left your door open’ remark, but instead he just shrugged.  
  
Then smirked. “Willed myself in here. I do know what you look like.”  
  
Annalise blinked at his reflection. “But, you can’t do that...?”  
  
Pat scowled, “I’ve already had Pierre tell me I can’t ‘something’. Don’t you start.”  
  
She swung around to face him. “What do you mean? You’re just you.”  
  
He folded his arms and didn’t answer. “You seen Pierre?”  
  
“No. I haven’t left my room. I only got up fifteen minutes ago.” She gently smeared her thumb across both eyelids. “Now answer my question, Patrick. How can you do that? I mean, I know why I can...but you?”  
  
“Oh, I’ve figured a few things out,” he replied airily.  
  
Annalise narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “Men...”  
  
Pat snorted. “I’m not your typical male. And anyway, they say that angels are sexless...really.”  
  
Annalise stared at him. “What?”  
  
He chuckled. “You look shocked.”  
  
She shook her head. “You’re not...only Pierre...and Gabriel...”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes and brought his right hand up, tapping his index finger to his forehead in a small salute. “Samiel...twin soul of Raphael...son of Lucifer.” He laughed. “Famous documenter of history in times gone by...no matter the age...I see and I remember.”  
  
Annalise shook her head and pushed him out of the bathroom. “Give me a minute, Pat...”  
  
Patrick shrugged and sat on a chair. “Sure...”  
  
She disappeared back into the bathroom, shutting the door. Leaning against it, she squeezed her eyes shut.  _Lord Almighty...what is going on here...this isn’t something I bargained for..._  She looked up wishing for a little bit of insight from the Heaven’s.  _I don’t understand...I’m just an agent for LAD...is there something that they haven’t told me...is there anyone up there who can enlighten me to the truth...because it’s true...I don’t know everything...I don’t even really know who I am...why I can do the things I do...please...Almighty...I need to know..._  
  
Annalise trembled and leaned her face in her hands. Ever since the Government had removed her from her biological family, her past had been shrouded by mystery. She only knew of her father as she had explained to Pierre, knew nothing of her mother, or any other living relatives.  
  
She was an enigma, and then whilst training in the LAD she had learned she could do many marvellous and strange things, such as teleportation, telepathy, healing and so many more.  
  
Of course, as far as she knew she was human, and she knew that other than herself the only other beings capable of such feats were angels.  _Like Pierre...and Gabriel...and... and Patrick? Patrick -- Samiel...Guardian of the Keys to Heaven’s Gates. That’s who he is. That might explain why I found him so easily in Laval...because...I know who he really is. Because, I’m only good at tracking angels...not humans..._  
  
Annalise shivered and hugged herself. Taking several deep breaths to calm her racing nerves, she stepped out of the bathroom. Pat was still in the same spot, arms dangling over the back of the chair.  
  
“You okay, Anna?”  
  
Annalise nodded slightly. “Yeah, I’m just surprised...I wasn’t expecting this.”  
  
Pat shrugged. “I told Pierre, he was shocked too.” He looked down. “I told him that I’d known what he was for at least seven years.”  
  
Annalise giggled, uncertainly. “More like thousands.”  
  
Pat chuckled. “Heh, I knew what I was from the day I was born. But then, I’ve always known. Every incarnation...” A small furrow appeared in his brow as he looked at her. “You...you’re...” he paused.  
  
She tilted her head, mauve eyes holding a quizzical expression. “I’m what?”  
  
He murmured. “You’re one too...”  
  
“One too, what? An angel? Don’t be stupid, Pat. I can’t be. I trace angels, and the progeny of Lucifer...I am no angel. I’m human. I’d know if I wasn’t.”  
  
Pat lifted an eyebrow and stood. “You’d doubt a son of the Fallen Angel?”  
  
Annalise snorted. “You’re not  _The_  son.”  
  
“No. Pierre is...”  
  
“What? He’s only half-angel. He’s not the one mentioned in the prophecy.”  
  
Pat blinked. “Then who is?”  
  
“His nephew...Gabriel.”  
  
Pat began to laugh.  
  
Annalise scowled at him. “What?”  
  
He rubbed his hands over his face. “I’d explain...but there isn’t time. I need to go find Pierre. We have to go soon, interviews and such...”  
  
The woman sighed, brushing a hand through her blonde hair. “Well, find time, okay?”  
  
“Don’t worry, I will...and I’ll make sure Pierre and Gabe are with us.” He made to leave but then stopped an anxious light in his eyes. “By the way...we need you to stay close...and keep an eye on Mickey.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Pat shook his head. “No time. Just...Pierre, Gabe and I...we don’t trust him. Watch him, okay?”  
  
Annalise nodded and watched as he left the room. Tilting her head back, she swore softly before heading back into the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.


	9. Cost of a life

_**Secret Location  
10:30 AM**_  
  
“Everything is in place. Mickey has told us when the band will be in range. Remember your orders. No one is to take action until Mickey gives us the signal... Is everyone clear as to what needs to be done?” Agent 78 stood before a small contingent of men who he had handpicked for the operation.  
  
They were the best of the best, hardened soldiers who had fought in many a war and had worked on many a covert assignment. Almost all of them were accomplished marksmen and two of them were trained assassins.  
  
It had taken years for the Agent to bring them all together under his command, but now that they were with him, he had never known a more loyal group of men.  
  
He scanned them slowly; their hard stares met his. He nodded, a cold smile slowly curling the corners of his mouth. Each of them nodded in turn. They were all ready to do the task that had been outlined.  
  
“Right. Let’s do this. Remember, we need the boy. Alive. If anyone else gets hurt then, so be it. The boy is all that matters.”  
  
 _ **Singapore  
Downtown  
11 AM**_  
  
“I spy with my little eye something beginning with L.G.M. – three words.”  
  
Gabriel screwed up his face as Sebastien grinned at the little boy.  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “He’ll never guess that. He’s never been to Singapore, before.”  
  
Seb pretended to look shocked. “What? Really? I thought everyone in the world had been to Singapore!”  
  
Pierre’s nephew giggled. “I haven’t, Oncle Seb...what’s L.G.M. stand for?”  
  
Sebastien sighed dramatically, “Little Green Men...”  
  
Patrick snorted, “Yeah, I remember when we were last here...what was it you said?”  
  
Pierre chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re silly, babe. You just said you remembered when we were last here.”  
  
“I remember being here. I don’t remember what Seb said.”  
  
“Ah...that clears that up.” Pierre suddenly frowned.  _Little Green Men...fuck..._  
  
He blinked rapidly as his heart rate went up a notch and he scanned the group. He breathed out slightly when he saw Mickey walking next to Chuck.  _Right...he’s still there...and he hasn’t made any signals...just calm down...nothing’s gonna happen yet...just can’t let him get between us and the rest of the guys..._  Pierre looked back at Pat. “I can’t remember...”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “I remember, now. He said...‘join me in the dance of little green men’ whilst pointing to a sculpture...that should be coming up in a few hundred metres...” His voice trailed off when he saw a strained expression flash rapidly across Pierre’s face. “What is it?”  
  
“Something...” Pierre glanced back over his shoulder then stopped. “Isn’t there a shorter route to the studio?”  
  
Chuck who had gone ahead with Mickey halted and came back to see what the hold up was. “What’s going on?”  
  
Pat frowned. “There’s a quicker route to the radio station. Just back there.”  
  
Annalise who was hanging back and making good on the promise she’d made Pat, observed the look on Mickey’s face. He had gone pale.  
  
She moved closer to Pierre and Gabriel.  _Look at Mickey...but...don’t let him know...he looks a bit off colour..._  
  
Pierre rubbed a hand over his face and cast a look out the corner of his eye at the redhead. He was fidgeting with the cap in his hands, a nervy expression in his eyes.  
  
He flicked an eye at the woman.  _You think he’ll make a move now?  
  
To do what?  
  
Shit...Pat didn’t explain?  
  
No...just that you didn’t trust him...  
  
Well there’s no time to explain right now...we need to get on another route, now...even if Chuck complains..._  
  
Annalise nodded and moved forward. “Chuck?”  
  
Chuck, who had begun to argue with Pat, stopped to acknowledge her. “Yeah?”  
  
“I think it would be better if we went the other way. It’s a lot quieter, and we won’t risk being late.” She waited watching for his response.  
  
Sighing, Chuck nodded. “Okay, shortcut it is then.”  
  
 _Thanks, Anna..._  Pierre winked faintly at her then swung around and made for the street that they had already passed.  
  
Gabriel followed closely, looking back once just in time to catch sight of the change of colour in Mickey’s aura. It had gone a dull grey and was pulsing almost feverishly. He was afraid, the little boy sensed that immediately; he knew what fear was.  
  
He hurried to catch up with his uncle and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “ _Tonton_  Pierre...”  
  
“Yeah, Gabe?” Pierre glanced down at him. “What’s up?”  
  
“Mickey...”  _His aura...it’s gone grey...he’s scared..._  
  
Pierre frowned.  _Of what?  
  
I dunno...maybe he’s scared of his boss?_  
  
The singer rubbed at his face.  
  
Pat came up next to them. “Something wrong, babe?” He could see the worry in Pierre’s dark eyes.  
  
Pierre took a deep breath. “Stay up here with Gabe...I’m going to go back and have another chat with Mickey...”  
  
“What for?”  
  
Pierre just shook his head and went right back to where Mickey and Chuck were talking drums. The others passed him in the opposite direction to walk with Pat and Gabe.  
  
“Hey...mind if I borrow Mickey for a moment?”  
  
The two men looked up at him. “No, go ahead...I’ll go and talk to Pat about the shows...”  
  
Chuck disappeared ahead to join the others who were way ahead now, and Pierre fell into step next to the youth. He kept his eyes facing straight ahead, as they strolled down the narrow side street.  
  
Mickey swallowed nervously. “You want to talk to me, Pierre?”  
  
Pierre shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You’ve failed, haven’t you?”  
  
The youth stiffened, raking tense fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
“Cut the crap, Michael. I know the truth. So just tell me.”  
  
A memory stirred in Mickey’s mind. “Nobody ever calls me that.”  
  
Pierre smirked faintly. “Just answer the question.”  
  
Mickey tucked his chin into his chest. “Yes,” his voice was a hoarse whisper. “They’ll kill me.” He glanced at the bigger man, eyes narrowing, tucking a hand inside his jacket. “Unless...I give them what they want, myself.”  
  
Pierre growled low, “I wouldn’t try it.”  
  
The redhead halted and stared hard at the singer. “And why not?”  
  
A confused expression spread across Pierre’s face. He had no idea why he had even said that. Shaking his head, he laughed self-consciously. “No clue. You just shouldn’t...it won’t get you anywhere.”  
  
Mickey took a step back, digging his hand further inside his jacket, fingertips brushing against the cool metal of his service gun. He’d had it hidden on him the entire time he’d been with the band.  
  
Breathing in hard, he licked his lips, lowering his voice. “Maybe I should...”  
  
Neither of them were aware of the fact that they had fallen back from the rest of the group, they were so intent upon their little altercation.  
  
“Should what?” Pierre tensed, feeling a sudden chill sweeping over his mind and body.  
  
And suddenly everything was in sharp focus. He knew he was in danger, and he had to act fast. Mickey laughed bitterly in response to Pierre’s question.  
  
He closed his hand tightly around the grip of the gun, but before he could draw it, Pierre lunged at him. The bigger man tackled him to the ground, seizing one wrist, pinning it to the ground.  
  
Mickey lashed out at him with the other hand the gun flying from his grasp and clattering across the sidewalk. Pierre snarled, and tried to grab his other arm. But, Mickey was twisting hard, scrabbling for the gun, getting closer and closer. Managing to get a finger to it, he flicked it closer and grasped it tightly swinging it round to slam into the side of Pierre’s head.  
  
Pierre groaned and pulled back clamping a hand to the side of his head. Mickey took that split second chance to level the gun at his chest and squeezed the trigger. There was no way he was going to miss at point blank range.  
  
Pierre’s eyes widened in shock, he registered the shot ringing in his ears and then he looked down at his chest, blood was slowly oozing out down his shirt. He clasped a hand over the bullet entry point and sank to the ground; the last thing he saw was a bright flash of red light and the sound of an animalistic roar.  
  
And then blackness.  
  
 ** _Heavenly Realms_**  
  
 _Raphael...wake up...wake up..._  
  
Pierre groaned, prying his eyes open. “What...who? Samiel?”  
  
 _No...not even close..._  
  
The man smeared his hand over his face and looked for the person who had spoken. He was back in the glade again. “Where are you?”  
  
 _Over here...by the pool..._  
  
Pierre frowned and staggered to his feet. “What pool? I don’t see -- Where?”  
  
 _Follow my voice..._  There was a strange quality to the voice. Almost inhuman. He scanned the landscape and moved across the emerald green grass until he stopped by a mirror bright pool of water.  
  
 _Crap...never saw this before..._  “Where...?” Pierre rubbed at his eyes and squinted trying to see. There wasn’t anyone around.  
  
 _Here..._  
  
Pierre turned slightly, blinked rapidly as slinking out from behind a large boulder was the biggest tiger he’d ever seen in his life. He’d been to zoos before and they’d had signs saying the ‘largest’ tiger alive...but the powerful animal moving toward him was bigger than all of them.  
  
Its coat was gleaming, the golden colour broken up by pitch-black stripes. It moved with the lean grace of a perfectly formed predator, and its top lip curled to reveal long, pearly canines. Saliva glistened at the tips, and it slowly licked its chops.  
  
Pierre shivered and took a step back. “What the...?”  
  
The tiger halted several feet from him and sank onto its haunches.  _You’re not dead if you were wondering..._  
  
“I just got shot, in the heart...and...if I remember correctly,” Pierre paused, another door unlocking in his mind, “Annalise told me...sometime ago, that I could only die from a bullet to the heart.”  
  
 _No. Your sister is wrong. But then, she was never told the truth._  
  
Pierre sank to the ground, head spinning. “My sister?”  
  
 _She is an angel too...but she does not know this..._  
  
“She doesn’t look anything like me...”  
  
The tiger licked at one of its massive paws.  _She’s not your sister in the mortal sense of the term...same as Samiel is not your twin in the human sense...you are all spawn of Satan’s seed...however, you are also your own selves as well...I’d explain but in the eyes of the Lord of the Dead I am but a mere bit player..._  The large predator growled low.  
  
Pierre breathed deeply trying to steady his racing heart. “What...who are you?”  
  
 _I am your Guardian...your Spirit...would have thought Aniel would have told you._  
  
Pierre groaned and clutched at his head. “Slow down...I can’t process all this information. Aniel? Who’s that?”  
  
 _Aniel is your brother Jason...he has a ginger cat...it showed up on your doorstep when you were younger..._  
  
“Oh? So?” Pierre remembered the cat. It was strange; wouldn’t let anyone but Jason touch it.  
  
 _Septimus is a Guardian Spirit as I am._  
  
Pierre shook his head. “But, he’s solid...real...?”  
  
The tiger moved, stretching its paws out in front of it, arching its back, yawning wide.  _I am too...if the need arises...which it will very soon..._  
  
He frowned. “Won’t people think it strange?”  
  
 _Only those who need to see will ever know..._  
  
Pierre trembled slightly. “But, I won’t be going back...will I? I’m dead...”  
  
 _You are not dead...just sleeping...you were shot...but you cannot die. You are the Son of the Devil...you can never be killed._  The tiger rose to its feet and padded closer.  
  
Pierre couldn’t help but notice that the animal was all male, down to its heavy ball sac and the musky smell that emanated from its body. “Do...I get to know your name?”  
  
The tiger snarled. i]Septimus calls me Sultan...but only because he thinks I’m snooty.  
  
Pierre swallowed hard, for some odd reason he felt like bowing to the creature. “What is your real name?  
  
 _It is Caesar..._  
  
Pierre smirked. “And that’s not a snooty name?”  
  
 _It was the name the Almighty granted me._  Caesar almost sounded offended.  
  
Pierre sighed. “Sorry...”  
  
The tiger crouched down in front of him, lifting his massive head, golden eyes blinking imperiously at the man before him.  
  
Pierre took a deep breath and let it out in a long rush of air. “So, I’m not dead?”  
  
 _No. You are not. But before you wake...there is something I need to do...so...bear with me, Raphael...lie down here by the pool...you will be safe...I will not allow anything to happen..._  
  
Pierre felt a little overwhelmed but somehow he knew he could trust him. It didn’t even feel strange to him. It was as if he had known Caesar his whole life, and perhaps he had...just not consciously.  
  
Settling down by the cool body of water, he closed his eyes and relaxed. The enormous cat moved to stand next to him, then lifted its head and let out an almighty roar...  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Pat’s head whipped back at the shot. “Fuck! Pierre!”  
  
He swung round and raced back, the others following. But then he skidded to a halt. David slammed into him from behind, but made no protest when he realised why Pat had stopped. A massive ball of red light had enveloped the scene.  
  
Mickey was standing frozen, a look of utter terror on his face, gun hanging limp from his right hand. Pierre’s body was on the ground blood trickling from a wound in his chest, but it was the apparition, standing over him, that had caught Pat’s attention.  
  
A huge, magnificent, yet, ghost-like tiger crouched over him; head lowered, lips curled revealing massive canines, a low menacing growl issuing from its throat. It was facing the red head, looking as if it was about to attack.  
  
“Oh, Christ Almighty...did something escape from the Zoo...” Jeff blinked rapidly.  
  
David opened and closed his mouth. Chuck looked as if he would faint. Pat took a deep breath and looked down at Gabriel, then across at Annalise.  
  
There was an awed expression in the woman’s purple eyes. Pat lifted an eyebrow her way.  
  
She looked back at him and murmured. “It’s a Spirit...”  
  
Pat took a deep breath and whispered. “Raphael’s Spirit...”  
  
“ _Oui_...” She breathed out slowly, trembling. “But, Pierre...”  
  
Pat shuddered. “Pierre can’t be dead...he can’t...”  
  
Annalise just looked away. She remembered with a bitter pang that she had told Pierre he could only die from a bullet to the heart. She only wished that weren’t true. Wiping at her eyes she turned back to watch the scene in front of them.  
  
David looked away unable to watch. Seb had hidden behind Jeff, and was clutching onto him. Chuck slumped to the ground breathing hard. Gabriel stood up on his tiptoes, eyes wide, but he wasn’t afraid. He was feeling the air. Sensing the intense hope that was flowing from the tiger Spirit.  
  
The tiger moved forward and then lifted its body up so it was standing taller than Mickey, its lean sinewy body balanced on its powerful hindquarters. Mickey looked terrified. Pat didn’t blame him. The massive tiger had huge teeth to go with it and looked like it could easily eat a man much bigger than the red head in front of him.  
  
It leaned closer to the terrified man and opened its jaws wider and then it appeared to just...breathe on him an opaque mist wrapping around him. The expression on his face softened and went blank and he slowly sank to the ground, closing his eyes.  
  
The gun slipped from his hand and the tiger bent down to pick it up in its jaws and move it away. Then the massive animal turned and vanished into thin air.  
  
The red light dissipated somewhat; that was enough to get Pat moving. He rushed over to where Pierre was lying. But, he crumpled to his knees before he reached his body. The shock of seeing his boyfriend shot was too much.  
  
Tears blurred his vision as his heart pounded in his chest. “Pierre...no...no...this can’t be happening...”  
  
Annalise quickly joined him, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying in someway to console him, not really knowing what to do. The others came closer, but not too close unsure of what to do or say, or how to react.  
  
Gabriel was the only one who was game enough to move right next to his uncle’s body. He crouched down between Pierre and Mickey and looked between the two an amazingly calm expression on his face.  
  
Chuck grumbled to David, “Look at the kid...how could he possibly-”  
  
He halted mid phrase because Pat suddenly gasped. Chuck turned to look just in time to see Pierre’s eyelids flickering faintly. He held his breath as Pierre groaned and his eyes snapped open fully.  
  
“Pierre?” Pat scrambled to his feet.  
  
Pierre shook his head and managed to push his body up off the ground a little. “Fuck...”  
  
He looked down at the bloodied stain on his shirt and pressed his palm over the hole, muttering under his breath.  
  
Pat fell to his knees next to him and grabbed at his hand. “Pierre...we need to get an ambulance...or something...”  
  
Pierre looked up at him a strange light in his eyes. He let his hand go limp so when Pat grabbed it, it fell away from the tear in the shirt.  
  
Pat gasped again. “What the fuck?” He pressed his hand over the spot where the bullet had passed and then pulled it away peering close. There wasn’t even a wound. “Pierre...?”  
  
Pierre smirked suddenly, his face lighting up. “Babe, I’m fine.” He pushed him away and got to his feet.  
  
“Fine? You were fucking shot! I could see the blood coming out of the-”  
  
Pierre pressed his fingertips gently to his lips. “Shhh...I’m fine. I’m here.” Then he turned his head to stare down at Mickey, his expression hardening. Walking forward, he sank down to crouch in front of the red head. “Mickey.”  
  
The young man’s eyes opened and he peered up at Pierre, expression blank. Pierre licked his lips then spoke quietly. “Tell me. What are you going to do now?”  
  
“Do?” The young man actually looked confused. “I’m not going to do anything. I’m a dead man.”  
  
He didn’t appear too shocked that Pierre was alive, but Pierre didn’t waste any time wondering about that.  
  
He seized the front of Mickey’s shirt and hauled him onto his feet. “You will be soon enough. But before we go there...tell me. Who really sent you?”  
  
Mickey trembled. “The Canadian Secret Service...but you already knew that.”  
  
“Who exactly?”  
  
Mickey shook his head. “I can’t name names...”  
  
Pierre snarled and twisted the collar of his shirt, pressing his knuckles into the smaller man’s throat. “Tell me.”  
  
The younger man’s eyes widened and he grabbed at Pierre’s wrist. “I can’t...they’ll...kill me...”  
  
Pierre’s eyes flashed. “Not if I kill you first. Tell me, or I’ll drag it out of you myself. And then I’ll kill you.”  
  
Mickey whimpered, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. “I had to do it...he would’ve killed me...”  
  
“Who?” Pierre shook him hard. “Who?  _Tell me_.”  
  
Mickey took a deep shuddering breath, lifted his other hand, and pointed a finger at Annalise. “Her brother...you might...want to ask  _her_  about it...”  
  
She took a sharp intake of breath, eyes widening at Mickey’s words. However, she couldn’t find words to speak, opening and closing her mouth in shock. She saw a strange almost mocking glint in the young man’s eyes.  
  
Pierre let go of him abruptly. Mickey slid to the ground. The singer swung around to cast an accusing glare at the young woman, who was still attempting to find something to say.  
  
As his furious gaze met hers, Annalise backed up holding out her right hand in a placating gesture. “Pierre...I swear I knew nothing about this...I...I didn’t even know I had a brother...”  
  
Pierre stalked toward her, eyes narrowed, face hard. “You expect me to believe that? You’ve been very reluctant to tell me anything.”  
  
She shook her head. “I wasn’t allowed to tell you too much! It was for your safety! And anyway...if I’d told you straight away...you wouldn’t have believed me.”  
  
Pierre stopped in front of her and stared down at her, his face a mask of betrayal. The others backed away sensing something different about their friend. None of them understood what was going on so they safely decided not to intervene. Only Pat and Gabriel had any real idea of what was happening.  
  
“You’re right about that. This is all pretty fucking unbelievable. But you can’t expect me to believe you didn’t know you had a brother.”  
  
Annalise bowed her head. “Pierre...I didn’t know. This is the first...”  
  
“Annalise, don’t lie to me.”  
  
She looked up at him. “Why would I? I work for the LAD...”  
  
“Yes, but your father is the head of the CSS. Do you really expect me to trust you?”  
  
“Pierre! I told you I was taken from my family!”  
  
“So, maybe you hated them for doing that. And maybe you’re secretly working for the CSS.” Pierre’s voice had taken on a rough edge and Annalise felt a stab of fear in her gut. She knew without a doubt that Pierre could make a dangerous enemy. The tiger lurked once more behind the dark veil of his eyes.  
  
She swallowed hard and said, as earnestly as possible, “No...Pierre...no. I’m on your side...I’m on your side! How could you think that of me?” She added silently,  _You have to trust me...I’ve done nothing wrong...I’m not the enemy..._  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face, many thoughts shifting in his mind and clicking into place. Connected images, ideas. It almost made sense. “Chuck got shot. Even though you’d said it was safe. And now this. You were the one who suggested we walk down here.”  
  
Annalise let out a strangled sob. “I had no idea Mickey would pull a fast one like that...”  
  
Pat interrupted, voice harsh. “Yeah, but I told you to keep an eye on him.”  
  
Pierre glanced at him. “You did?”  
  
“I did.”  
  
Pierre turned back to look at her.  
  
Annalise wiped the back of her hand across her face; she was shaking. “Pierre...I...was...I was watch- ”  
  
Pierre lifted his hand, palm facing her. “Don’t. You’ve said enough. Just stay close, where I can see you.” He shot a look at Mickey. “You too.” He looked at the others. “Come on, we’d better get moving...we’re already late enough as it is.”  
  
Chuck blinked. He was too overwhelmed by everything that had just happened and so all he could say was, “You can’t go into the studio looking like that...”  
  
Pierre looked down at his shirt and scowled. “Well, what do you suggest?”  
  
Pat was already well ahead of him; he had his cell phone pressed to his ear and was speaking rapidly into the mouthpiece. “We’re going to be late...we have an issue we have to deal with...can we delay for an hour? Yes? Fantastic...see ya in an hour then.” He hung up and looked at the guys. “We have an hour.”  
  
He pointed at Pierre. “You and I are going back to the hotel, you can wash...change and a car will be sent to pick us up.” He looked at both Annalise and Mickey. “You two are coming with Pierre and me. The rest of you, Gabriel you too.”  
  
Gabriel glowered at Pat. But, he just shook his head at the boy. “...Go ahead and wait for us at the studio...we won’t be long.”  
  
Chuck blinked again. “Uh...how are you going to get back to the hotel though.”  
  
Pat shook his head grabbing hold of Pierre’s arm and the back of Mickey’s shirt. "Just go...we’ll see you at the studio.”  
  
They left - Gabriel dragging his feet - bemused expressions on their faces, muttering to each other. As soon as they’d rounded the corner and disappeared from view, Pat took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  
  
Pierre frowned. “Pat?”  
  
Pat opened one eye and glanced at him. “Grab a hold of her...I’ll take us back...”  
  
“How?”  
  
“Fuck, Pierre...just hold her!”  
  
Pierre grabbed hold of Annalise’s arm; she winced and looked up at him. There was no time for him to say anything though because suddenly the world spun around them and the street faded.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _Holiday Inn  
Noon  
Pierre and Pat’s Room_**  
  
Pierre stood beneath a steady stream of hot water, steam rising up to fog the glass. Head tilted back, eyes closed, he breathed deeply, revelling in the sting of the water on his aching body. He hadn’t realised how sore he was before due to the adrenaline racing through his veins, but now in the shower he was aware of every single fibre in his body.  
  
Every atom in his body seemed to be thrumming with energy, and his mind was full to bursting with a sudden flood of knowledge. The final door to the memories that had been hidden away had unlocked and he didn’t know what to do with them.  
  
With his eyes closed, he could also see the deep golden glow of his aura, red sparks flickering across the inner core. Bracing his hands in his hair he let out a loud moan.  
  
“Baby? You okay?”  
  
He opened one eye. Pat had entered the en suite and was peering through the shower curtain.  
  
Pierre scowled. “Hey, you should be watching-”  
  
“Don’t worry, they’ll be out until we leave.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Pat shrugged. “I made them go to sleep...”  
  
Pierre opened both eyes and squinted at his boyfriend. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I’ll show you...later...” Pat licked his lips, moved back and sat on the toilet seat, staring at the floor.  
  
Pierre leaned one hand against the shower wall. “Babe?”  
  
Pat’s shoulders shook slightly; when he spoke next, his voice came out as a strangled sob. “I thought I’d lost you, Pierre...”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Nah, you’ll never lose me, Pat.”  
  
Pat glared at him. “I swear you were dead. You were dead, Pierre. I could see the fucking blood...you lying there...not moving...the bullet hole...I saw it!”  
  
Pierre became grave. “I know. I felt it.” He breathed in hard. Turning away for a moment he turned the taps off and then stepped out of the shower, dripping water onto the floor.  
  
Pat stood and grabbed a towel coming up and wrapping it around Pierre’s body, leaving his arms around him for a long moment. Just holding him. Ignoring the fact that he was getting his shirt soaked.  
  
Pierre lifted a hand to gently touch Pat’s cheek, stroking softly. “It’s alright, Patty cake...you won’t lose me...I promise...”  
  
Pat leaned his forehead against his broad back, water drops attaching themselves to strands of his hair, and murmured. “It was horrible...”  
  
Pierre reached down to curl a hand around Pat’s squeezing reassuringly. “I don’t doubt it, but I’m still here, babe. I’m not going anywhere...I have a job to do, remember? Gotta look out for Gabe...”  
  
Pat chuckled faintly. “Well, the CSS are no closer to getting a hold of him, eh?”  
  
Pierre turned to look at him. “And we’d better hope to God that they never do.”  
  
“God, eh?” Pat stepped back watching as Pierre began to dry himself.  
  
Pierre scrubbed at his hair with the towel his response muffled. “Well, whoever the higher power is...”  
  
Pat shook his hair from his face, his lips twitching, a strange light in his eyes. “The Almighty...doesn’t really like us all that much... _Raphael_...”  
  
Pierre frowned seeing something flicker in his eyes. “Samiel?”  
  
Laughing, Pat took a step back and grabbed at his forehead. “Fuck...get out...I don’t need your help right now...”  
  
Pierre raised his eyebrows.  
  
Pat groaned and muttered to himself. “No...I’m fine...get out...I’m doing fine...ugh...” He shook his head then blinked rapidly. “Damn, Samiel...always trying to take over.”  
  
Pierre just stared at him. “He can do that? Was he the one who?”  
  
“No. I can teleport on my own.”  
  
“Teleport...” Pierre tasted the word. “For real?”  
  
Pat smirked. “What else would you call it, babe?”  
  
Pierre blinked. “Weird.”  
  
“Hah, that’s us, baby. Weird all round.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “You could do it. You can mind speech, so of course you could teleport...and obviously you can’t be killed...” Pat kneaded his fingers into the back of his neck, thoughtful expression hovering on his face. “I don’t understand that...”  
  
Pierre wrapped the towel around his waist. Pat moved close again and pressed a hand against Pierre’s solid chest, stroking the spot where the bullet had penetrated. There was not even the tiniest of marks. No scarring whatsoever.  
  
Pierre caught Pat’s hand in his. “Don’t need to understand...just accept it...”  
  
Pat nodded then sighed looking down at his shirt. “Fuck...now I gotta change my shirt...you made me wet.”  
  
Pierre chuckled lewdly. “You know you love it.”  
  
“Oh, stop it, Bouvier...we haven’t time for that.”  
  
“Too bad...”  
  
Patrick scratched his face. “Speaking of...what do you think we should do about those two?”  
  
Pierre hesitated, several different emotions warring across his face. “I’m not sure. What do you think?”  
  
Pat smirked. “I know what Samiel would think...curse them to Hell...but...there’s something about both of them that’s bothering me...” He paused chewing on his bottom lip. “Annalise...is more than she looks...but she doesn’t know it.”  
  
Pierre leaned against the basin. “What do you mean?”  
  
“She’s...an angel...a daughter of Lucifer...” He laughed sourly. “I told her I was one of his sons...”  
  
“But, isn’t that the case...or I mean...at least isn’t Samiel?”  
  
Pat shook his head slowly. “His father is the Archangel Michael...but I’m still your twin soul, confusing, eh?”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “I suggest you stop now before my brain-”  
  
“Explodes. Yeah, sorry, I’ll stop.”  
  
“Still, we’ll have to do something about them.”  
  
Pat rubbed his jaw. “Keep Annalise close. Mickey though, maybe we should just fire him.”  
  
“No,” Pierre’s voice hardened. “He can stay. I think I’ll deal with him, on the quiet.” He looked at Pat.  
  
His boyfriend met his gaze feeling the ice-cold fury there. “Babe...”  
  
“If he’d succeeded, Gabriel could’ve been taken.”  
  
Pat snorted. “Strange the CSS never showed.”  
  
Pierre laughed harshly. “Well, maybe Annalise did something right, still I want to find out about this brother of hers.”  
  
“You’ll question her?”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened. “I’ll force it out of her, if I have to.”  
  
Patrick blinked; a little shocked at the coldness of Pierre’s tone. “Pierre. Maybe she  _doesn’t_  know.”  
  
He held up his hand, halting the conversation. “Don’t...just...” He shook his head. “Go back out there...I’ll just finish getting ready.”  
  
Pat sighed and left, a cloud of anxiety hanging behind in his wake. Pierre stayed leaning against the basin, bowing his head, gathering his thoughts to himself.  
  
 ** _SKJ FM Studios  
Same Time_**  
  
David sat staring at his hands, mumbling under his breath in French. Jeff flopped next to him a bewildered expression on his face. Chuck paced up and down, being watched by Seb who was perched on the corner of a low table.  
  
They had arrived at the radio station where the band was supposed to have an on-air interview. It would have been live, but due to the delay, it was now going to have to be recorded and then aired at a different time.  
  
Chuck was extremely apologetic and had promised to compensate for the lost time. The radio host had suggested they wait for the others in the small lounge behind the studio. And so, that was where they were now, wiling away the time.  
  
“You know what’s odd?” the drummer finally asked the room at large.  
  
Jeff tilted his head. “What?”  
  
“How come no one heard any of the shit that went on back there?”  
  
Gabriel, who was snuggled up to David, looked up blue eyes watchful.  
  
Jeff scratched his face. “How do you mean?”  
  
Chuck flung his hands up in the air. “Well, how come nobody came to see what the fuck was going on? I mean you could hardly miss a fucking gunshot! I would’ve thought there would have been cops and what have you...”  
  
Seb lay back on the table. “Maybe it was like in Tokyo...y’know when Annalise said she did that...thing...whatever...”  
  
“Yeah? When I got shot.” Chuck’s voice tightened. “Maybe Pierre’s right. About her. Maybe she...is out to get us.”  
  
“Oh, come on. She seems too nice for that.”  
  
“Mickey seemed too nice,” David pointed out.  
  
They fell silent. All of them were trying to come to terms with the strange scene they had just witnessed. Particularly the part where Pierre had been shot, but managed to survive without even the evidence of a wound. It wasn’t like with Chuck. They’d seen Gabriel heal him and that was hard to believe in itself. But, it was as if Pierre had healed himself. That was shocking.  
  
Gabriel sat up and fiddled with his shoelaces. He was bored. Inexplicably he was the only one who had understood what he’d seen. He wouldn’t have been able to explain it in words. But, he had understood. Still, he was only a child and he was bored.  
  
Turning to the bassist, he tugged at his shirt. “Oncle Davy...I’m bored...”  
  
David smiled at the boy and pulled out a pack of cards. “Wanna play cards?”  
  
The little boy nodded vigorously. Anything to pass the time until Pierre and Pat joined them.


	10. Red clouds a-gathering

_**Heaven’s Gates**_  
  
 _Samiel wasn’t supposed to know! By the Almighty, how did he find out? I thought you said he was ignorant?_  Michael swung around, green eyes blazing stormily.  
  
The Fallen Angel held up a hand to placate his Lieutenant.  _Michael, it was not my doing. Perhaps your son was more aware of the truth than we thought?_  
  
Raziel laughed archly.  _Mayhap it’s better this way...he can aid Raphael better at any rate._  
  
Michael snarled, his aura sparking lethally.  _He is not of the same calibre...if his mortal incarnation is harmed he will be sent straight back here and will be of no help whatsoever._  
  
Lucifer sighed wearily and moved to confront the younger being.  _You really have no idea what Samiel...Patrick is capable of...you underestimate him. He is with his twin soul...and they will prevail in the end._  
  
Michael growled.  _And what of Gabriel? Will they manage to protect him?  
  
He is not the important one...but those mere mortals have no clue...It is really Pierre...Raphael that is their key to the prophesy. It’s him they should be after to destroy..._  
  
Raziel laughed again.  _Which is their aim...but for a completely different reason...  
  
Yes, to get to Gabriel.  
  
So, inadvertently...if they kill Pierre they would...?  
  
Cause Armageddon. Destroying my son would be the biggest mistake..._ Lucifer sneered.  _Better they leave well alone..._  
  
Michael rolled his eyes.  _But, they’re just ignorant humans...  
  
Unlike Samiel..._ Raziel sank down onto the ground in front of the Gates.  _Anyway, what if they don’t destroy Pierre...and go for Gabriel instead?  
  
The world will still end...  
  
So how do we prevent that?_  
  
Lucifer shook his head slowly.  _We don’t. Samiel, Gabriel and Raphael do.  
  
How?_  
  
The Fallen One shrugged.  _Only they know..._  
  
Raziel floated up and glared at him.  _And what of your daughter? I hear she’s been hiding things from Raphael?  
  
Annalise. Ah, and her mortal brother...you should know who that is...she has nothing to do with him...knows nothing about him._ Lucifer smirked faintly. Of course, he would not tell them who her brother was because he couldn’t afford to. It would come out eventually and then all Hell would break loose.  
  
The Fallen One also knew that it would be easier for his fellow angels to ascertain for themselves who Annalise’s brother was...half the fun was in the finding out.  
  
Michael rubbed his jaw.  _So, she was telling them the truth?  
  
Yes, and Pierre will find that out...but...not without first doing some harm...  
  
To...her?_  
  
Lucifer nodded.  _And to young Mickey... It is a dark road that we fallen angels tread...all of us._  
  
Michael bristled.  _That_  is  _me..._  
  
The Fallen Angel nodded.  _Never fear...the truth will become apparent...and anyhow...you’ll come through, whatever Pierre does.  
  
I hope so..._ Michael’s aura pulsed.  _The kid’s not so bad...he’s just misguided...  
  
Threatened more like...my incarnation...placed him in a grim position._  
  
Raziel interrupted, a troubled tone to his question.  _Who is her brother?  
  
Annalise’s brother? Ah...now that would be telling...watch and you will see..._ Lucifer turned and pointed to the Pool of Seers and the rippling surface stilled affording the three angels a clear view of the mortal realm.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **Singapore International Airport  
  
Tuesday 3rd December 2007  
  
5 PM**_  
  
Agent 78 stood at the Gate lounge fingering the edge of his carry-on luggage. A strand of white blonde hair fell over his eyes, and he grumbled under his breath. He was upset with himself. He had failed to complete the task he’d set himself; The Captain had been furious but had been gracious enough to grant him two more chances.  
  
However, what bothered him the most was that he had lost contact with his spy. The young cadet that he had sent to befriend the band; he had just disappeared off the radar. After the botched assignment, he’d just vanished.  
  
It was always frustrating when a cadet was lost, they were always so eager to please, notwithstanding the fact that he had threatened this particular recruit with death, if he failed.  
  
Still, he did have a little bit of a conscience. The young man probably had family somewhere who were worrying about him. He had to tell them something, and he didn’t really want to resort to lies.  
  
Sighing wearily, he flopped onto a chair and placed his head in his hands. He couldn’t wait to get to Paris, and start afresh. This time he would do it himself, make sure everything went according to plan. He could not afford to make any more mistakes.  
  
There was one complication though. The woman that the LAD had sent to warn his target. She needed to be removed before any further action could be taken. The knowledge of the woman had been the only interesting thing that the young cadet had managed to pass on to him.  
  
She could pose a threat to the whole operation. Particularly since that woman was his younger sister.  
  
The only thing he had going for him was that she did not know that they were related. And if he dealt with her appropriately, she would never find out.  
  
Smirking quietly, Agent 78 sank down on his chair and, whilst waiting for his flight, began to formulate his plan of action.  
  
 ** _Holiday Inn  
  
Annalise’s Room  
  
6 PM_**  
  
Pierre sat astride a chair, elbows leaning on the back of it, hands clasped together. With his chin resting on his fists, he studied the woman standing in front of him. Annalise stood, with chin lifted, an almost defiant expression in her bright purple gaze.  
  
“I told you.” Her voice was quiet; yet, there was a steely resolve there. “I don’t know who my brother is.”  
  
Pierre’s cold eyes bore into hers. “I don’t believe you.”  
  
“Believe what you like. I’m on your side, no matter what you think.”  
  
Pierre stood and approached her. She held her ground even though inside, her heart was beating a mile a second, and all she wanted to do was run away from him.  
  
Standing, he was much taller than her; it was a little intimidating having him so close, glaring down at her. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed hard.  
  
“If you’re telling me the truth, why are you so afraid of me?” Pierre whispered, voice low.  
  
Annalise trembled, clasping her hands behind her back to stop their shaking. “I’m not...”  
  
Pierre smirked. “I can smell your fear, Annalise.”  
  
“I’m not afraid of  _you_...” She paused, pulse fluttering in her throat. “I...I’m more worried about what you could do...” She took a deep breath and murmured, “Your anger would be better directed at Mickey...”  
  
Pierre conceded her point. “Don’t worry. I’ll be talking to him after we finish here.” He moved back to straddle the chair again. “So, do you have proof?”  
  
Annalise blinked. “Proof?”  
  
“Yes. Prove to me that you won’t betray us to the CSS.”  
  
She shivered then laughed harshly. “I’d gladly destroy the lot of them, if I could.”  
  
“Even your father?”  
  
“Especially my father.”  
  
“What about your brother?” Pierre watched her face carefully. It betrayed no emotion.  
  
“I’d kill him, too. He meant to have you killed, whoever he is. And, if you’ve not forgotten, my job and that of the LAD is to make sure you are safe...and that if harm does come to you...to deal with it.”  
  
Pierre folded his arms on the back of the chair looking thoughtfully at her, remembering what Pat had told him. “I still don’t believe you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You do know who he is, don’t you? After all, how could you not? You can do all kinds of shit...how can you not know?”  
  
Annalise sank down to the floor and ran her hands though her long hair. “What does it matter?”  
  
“You know why it matters. I won’t be able to trust you.”  
  
She shifted nervously. “If this were a different period of time that would give you the right to kill me.”  
  
Pierre tilted his head to the side. “Who’d know if I killed you now?”  
  
“This is the 21st Century...” Annalise shivered. “Anyway. You’re not like that. That’s not who you are...at least not this time round.”  
  
He rested his chin on his folded arms. “What about other times?”  
  
She shook her head. “I don’t know...because I realise I don’t really know anything about you. Whatever I was told was either a lie...or not the complete truth.”  
  
“What made you realise that?”  
  
Annalise laughed bitterly. “The fact that you didn’t die when you were shot...”  
  
Pierre nodded slowly and muttered almost to himself. “That would do it.” He closed his eyes for a moment, kneading the tips of his fingers into his temples. “Fuck...all these fucking memories and I don’t know what to do with them...”  
  
Annalise frowned, surprised. “ _You_  remember everything...now?”  
  
Pierre sighed. “Almost.” His voice stiffened. “Not that it’s any of your business.”  
  
She looked down. “I said you’d remember, that much I did know...when though?”  
  
Pierre shifted on the chair and stared up at the ceiling. Then he sighed heavily. There probably was no harm in telling her.  
  
“After I came to...just before Pat reached me...it just sort of flooded into my mind...” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth. “I didn’t have time to think about it though.”  
  
Annalise rubbed her face.  
  
Pierre chuckled at a sudden thought. “Do you remember? You said to me in Vegas, that this was my first male incarnation. But you were wrong. I was only ever female once...and that was back...somewhere in a garden...”  
  
Annalise’s eyes went wide. “Eden?”  
  
“The Eve herself.”  
  
“But, that would mean...Pat was Adam?”  
  
She giggled. “Imagine that...that’s...odd.”  
  
Pierre smirked. “I guess I couldn’t stand being the woman, after that.”  
  
Annalise smiled but then went quiet, her expression becoming serious once more. “So, what are you going to do?”  
  
Pierre smeared a hand over his face, his rage returning. “I still don’t believe you. Or trust you.” He stared down at her. “So, do me a favour.”  
  
She waited.  
  
He stood and paced over to stand above her. “Give me your phone.”  
  
Annalise looked up at him, his eyes were like dark chips of ice. The dark stubble that covered his jaw gave him a dangerous look. There was no way she was going to argue with him. Still, giving him her phone would trap her there, or at least wherever the band went.  
  
Without any means of contacting the LAD, she would practically be a prisoner. No matter how melodramatic that sounded, it was the truth.  
  
Lowering her gaze, she pulled her phone and pager from her back pocket and handed them over. He took them, tucking them into his own back pocket. Then he held out his hand. She hesitated then placed hers in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet.  
  
Her heart was racing frantically as he pulled her close to his body. He was all hard muscle and restrained fury. She held still, not daring to do otherwise.  
  
Without a word, he patted her down making sure she had nothing hidden on her. Then holding her firm against him, he pressed a hand to her forehead a tiny frown furrowing his brow.  
  
After several minutes, he pushed her away and walked to the door. He paused in the doorway and looked back at her.  
  
“We go to Paris tomorrow. Perhaps if you make good on your promise re your contact there...” He didn’t finish the sentence turning to walk away, the door clicking shut behind him.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The phone began ringing in Pierre’s back pocket.  
  
He halted down the corridor and pulled it out, flipping it open and answering brusquely. “Anna’s phone, Pierre Bouvier speaking.”  
  
 _“Pierre? What the fuck are you doing with Annalise’s phone?”_  
  
Pierre blinked. “Jay? What the hell?” He leaned against the wall and pressed a hand to his forehead. His breath quickened.  
  
Jason groaned on the other end of the line.  _“I have to speak to Annalise...it’s urgent.”_  
  
“How do you know her?” Pierre’s voice was tight.  
  
There was a pause then his brother responded sharply.  _“I really can’t say, Pierre. Give her the phone.”_  
  
“No. I can’t do that. I’ve confiscated it from her.”  
  
 _“What? No. Why?”_  
  
“I think she might be secretly working for the CSS.”  
  
There was a long silence at Jason’s end, disbelief hanging taut in the air.  
  
“Jay?”  
  
 _“Fuck. Pierre. You’re serious?”_  
  
Pierre palmed his face. “ _Oui_. I am. There’s something’s she’s refusing to tell me. Anyways. Did you know I got shot yesterday?”  
  
 _“I heard. In the heart. But you’re still alive...how?”_  
  
Pierre hesitated for a heartbeat. He suspected that his brother knew a lot more than he was letting on, so he was sure that he was about to tell him something he already knew.  
  
Still, he was cautious when he said, quietly, “I’m an angel. But, um...you already knew that, didn’t you?”  
  
 _“Heh. Yeah. Septimus told me.”_  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes and continued down the hallway. “Yeah, odd cat.”  
  
 _“Not as odd as your tiger friend...”_  
  
“You’re telling me...but he is a formidable ally...”  
  
 _“True that...”_  Pierre could hear shuffling at his brother’s end and then Jason spoke again, voice tense.  _“You looked at the sky lately? Those red storm clouds are back...something’s off in the heavens...”_  
  
“No, I hadn’t noticed, too many other things happening...what do you think it means?”  
  
 _“Your guess is as good as mine. How’s Gabe?”_  
  
“As good as any other eight year old. Not that I’d know. I don’t know many.”  
  
Jason laughed.  _“As good as himself, then.”_  
  
“Guess so.” Pierre came to a stop outside Mickey’s room. “So, how urgent is this call to Annalise?”  
  
Jason sighed.  _“I really need to talk to her. But, it’s a confidential matter. By the way, the guy who shot you, what are you going to do about him?”_  
  
Pierre rested a hand against the door. “Not sure yet...but, I’ll think of something.”  
  
 _“Well, whatever you do...don’t get caught.”_  
  
“I won’t...and um...just call the hotel here and get the call patched to her room.”  
  
 _“You’re hanging on to her phone?”_  
  
“Yes.”  
  
 _“Very well, I’ll let those who need to know, know. Talk to you later...”_  
  
“Yep, and say hi to  _Maman_  for me...”  
  
Pierre flipped the phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket before rapping on Mickey’s door. The door opened a crack; the redhead peered around the edge nervously.  
  
“Pierre...” He gulped, eyes widening as his gaze fell upon Pierre’s stormy expression. “What do you-?”  
  
He didn’t get to finish his question as Pierre forced the door open, seized him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind them.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _7 PM_**  
  
Sebastien and Pat came down the corridor discussing the Man of the Hour-Hour show that they had just finished recording.  
  
“Hope Tom doesn’t prevent us from adding that last song to the podcast.”  
  
“Which one?” Pat scratched his jaw.  
  
Seb smirked. “ _Spray On Pants_. That new Kisschasy one.”  
  
“Oh, yeah...they toured with us in Australia, right? In 2005?”  
  
“Exactly, I reckon it has to be on the podcast. Everyone in the US and Canada, need to hear that song.”  
  
Pat nodded but then scowled as he looked ahead of them. Seb followed his gaze. Annalise was coming out of her room, glancing furtively up the corridor, in the opposite direction that they were coming from.  
  
“What does she think she’s doing?” Pat murmured.  
  
Seb squinted. “Uh, maybe she’s waiting for someone?”  
  
“No. She shouldn’t be leaving her room.”  
  
“Huh? Why not, Pat?”  
  
Pat shook his head. The rest of the band still didn’t know what was really going on. Pierre and Pat had both decided that it was not necessary for them to know the details. At least not yet.  
  
He glanced at the younger man. “Could you give me a minute...I’ll meet you down at the lobby.”  
  
Seb shrugged and headed for the elevator bays. Pat continued along the hallway.  
  
“Annalise.”  
  
Her head swung toward him and her eyes flickered. “Pat...hey...”  
  
“What are you doing?” He leaned his left shoulder against the wall, raising his eyebrows at her.  
  
Annalise hesitated, right hand grasping the doorframe. “I...I was just...” She licked her lips. “Nothing...just thinking about going and grabbing some food.”  
  
“Really?” Folding his arms, he stared hard at her.  
  
She took a deep shuddering breath. “ _Merde_...Patrick...I’ve done nothing wrong.”  
  
She peered up at him; he was shocked to see tears glistening in her eyes. He bit his bottom lip. “I’m inclined to believe you, but Pierre...”  
  
Annalise laughed harshly, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes. “He’s something else, isn’t he?”  
  
Pat sighed. “You can’t blame him.”  
  
“I wouldn’t. I’m not. I’d probably react the same way if I were in his position.” She leaned her head against the door and whispered. “But, I wish he’d believe me...I really don’t know who my brother is...God Almighty...I’d tell him, tell everyone even, if I knew.” Her breath hitched in the back of her throat.  
  
Pat scowled deeply. “Well, I can’t help you there. You’re on your own.”  
  
Annalise rubbed at her face. “I’d never ask you to turn against him, Patrick.” She looked at him. “I know how much you love him. How loyal you are to him.” She sniffed a little. “I must admit I envy you a little.”  
  
Pat smirked. “Yeah, I guess I turned out lucky, every one of my lives.”  
  
Annalise managed a tiny smile. “Yeah, even your first mortal incarnation.”  
  
He laughed outright. “Yeah, well I didn’t mean to eat the fruit...that was  _his_  idea.” He shook his head. “Even though it was my idea in the first place...” He mumbled under his breath. “And Raph’s to evolve into human consciousness...” He turned away and stared down the corridor. “Time is an illusion...”  
  
She squinted at him. “How do you mean?”  
  
Pat licked his lips. “The Fallen Ones were kicked out of Heaven because the woman ate of the fruit...but, we had already incarnated into the mortal realms. I was Adam...Raphael, Eve...strange that Raphael had already set our plan into action, as if he knew we would fall from grace.”  
  
Annalise just blinked at him. “You’ve just lost me.”  
  
“Heh, pay no attention to me, just thinking out loud.”  
  
“Well, if you don’t trust me, don’t you think it better you don’t?”  
  
Pat shot her a cool look. “You wouldn’t dare do anything with it. Pierre will know.”  
  
Her shoulders slumped. “True that. He knows things...now that he remembers.”  
  
“He told me earlier that he read Mickey’s mind...”  
  
“I figured as much. But he didn’t see the shooting...”  
  
Pat sighed wearily. “That must have been a split decision by Mickey, then and there.”  
  
“It shouldn’t have happened.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
She cast her gaze down at the floor. “They use the most horrid carpet...don’t you think?”  
  
Pat looked down as well. “The diamond pattern? It’s not too bad...”  
  
“He tried to read mine...”  
  
He blinked. “You know if he got anything from you?”  
  
Annalise swallowed hard and stepped back into her room. “I...I’ll let you go...I’m just going to order room service...”  
  
Pat grabbed the door before she could shut it. “Anna.” His tone was unwontedly gentle. “Did he?”  
  
Her bottom lip quivered. “You’ll have to ask him.”  
  
He let go of the door. It closed with a soft click.  
  
He murmured to himself.“Oh, I mean to...”  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _Mickey’s Room  
  
Same time_**  
  
Pierre lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Mickey sat on the edge of the bed head bowed, a weary expression on his face, waiting.  
  
“So, he would have killed you?”  
  
“ _Oui_. In fact, he was going to kill me. But, I managed to change his mind.”  
  
Pierre rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his folded arms. “Tell me, what you said about him being Annalise’s brother? Were you telling the truth? Or did you just want to remove the blame from yourself?”  
  
Mickey swallowed passed a lump that had formed in his throat. “It’s the truth, Pierre. I’d not lie about something like that. If you saw him...you’d know. By the way, he doesn’t know I know that.”  
  
Pierre chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me. For what it’s worth, you’re good at what you do.”  
  
Mickey laughed bitterly. “No. If I was good, you’d be dead.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“It’d make no difference. I’m immortal. You can’t kill me.”  
  
“Christ...” The younger man shook his head. “Guess that doesn’t shock me as much as it should.”  
  
“I actually only realised it after you’d shot me.”  
  
Mickey’s lips quirked. “Figures.”  
  
They fell silent. Pierre rubbed at his face.  
  
His voice was grim when he finally said, “You know I should do something about what happened.”  
  
The red head nodded. “Hand me over to the authorities?”  
  
“No. I told Pat I’d deal with you myself.”  
  
Mickey shivered and glanced nervously at the big man. He had no trouble believing that Pierre was capable of doing a lot of damage to him.  
  
“What...” He cleared his throat, “what will you do?”  
  
Pierre finally met the younger man’s gaze, directly, a surge of power rushing through his veins, his aura pulsing menacingly deep in his core. He could see, at the edge of his vision, bloodied light permeating his whole aura.  
  
“I’m going to lay your emotions bare, I’m going to drag out every little bit of information from you, and then,” he paused, watching the fear rise in Mickey’s eyes. “And then I’m going to send you straight to Hell.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _Pierre and Pat’s Room  
  
10 PM_**  
  
“Baby, what’s the matter?”  
  
Pierre lay with his face buried in a pillow, trembling a little. Pat and Gabriel had just come back with the rest of the guys; they’d gone out to eat and stayed out for a while. Pierre hadn’t felt up to going. Pat crawled onto the bed next to him and rested a hand on his bare back.  
  
“Jesus...you’re burning up...what have you been doing...?”  
  
Pierre mumbled into the pillow, “Hell’s real hot...”  
  
Pat tried to turn him to look at him.  
  
He jerked away. “Don’t, Patrick.”  
  
“Pierre, what’s the matter?”  
  
Pierre growled, without lifting his head, “ _Leave me alone_ , Langlois.”  
  
Pat backed off, sensing a deadly undertone to his boyfriend’s voice. “Jeeze...” He rubbed at his face. “Um...” He coughed nervously. “Chuck was wondering whether you’d seen...um...Mickey?”  
  
Pierre finally looked at him. Pat felt a chill run down his spine. Pierre’s eyes were blank, void of all emotion.  
  
“Yeah. Earlier. But, um...he left.”  
  
“ _What_?” Pat blinked, incredulous. “But, I thought you were going to-”  
  
Pierre’s eyes narrowed. “He’s  _gone_ , Patrick.”  
  
The other man’s eyes widened when he realised what he meant. “Fuck...what did you do, Pierre?”  
  
Pierre sat up and brought his hands up to his face, smearing them all over his face and running his fingers through his hair. Pat could see the tension in his body, the coiled tightness of his muscles. He reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on his left bicep. It was as solid as iron. He rubbed it slowly.  
  
Pierre quivered. “Fuck, I don’t wanna talk about it right now...”  
  
Pat nodded and moved close to him once more.  
  
Pierre rubbed at his eyes. “Where’s Gabe?”  
  
“Went to sleep in Chuck’s room...”  
  
“Sleep...” Pierre murmured weakly.  
  
Pat nodded and ran his fingers through Pierre’s limp hair. “Do you wanna?”  
  
The bigger man nodded wearily. “Yeah...yeah...sleep sounds good...”  
  
He lay down, leaning his cheek on his pillow, curling up a little. Pat pushed the sheets down and shuffled in next to him, flinging an arm over his body, stroking his arm gently.  
  
“Go to sleep, babe...”  
  
Pierre smiled weakly, closing his eyes. Pat remained awake, watching as he drifted into a restless sleep. He hugged him tighter and closed his own eyes, eventually succumbing to his own tiredness, but not before realising he’d forgotten to ask about what happened between Pierre and Annalise.  
  
 _Tomorrow...tomorrow...worry about it...tomorrow..._  
  
 ** _Heaven’s Gates_**  
  
Michael groaned and grabbed at his forehead.  _Gracious Mother of Earth...my head..._  
  
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly.  _You’re back?  
  
My head!_  
  
The Fallen One rolled his eyes.  _I meant...  
  
I know what you meant. Damnation...Tell me, Lucifer? Did Raphael have to do that?_  
  
Lucifer chuckled.  _Do what? Open the portal to Hell? Maybe not...but it’s a good thing you have a hold of your soul..._  
  
Michael sighed.  _He’ll have to go back...Mickey has to...go back...his work is not done yet.  
  
Why? Raphael...Pierre will just send him back..._  
  
The archangel rubbed at his face, aura flickering.  _Not if I prepare him. Not if I go...  
  
What? You mean...you’re not going to split your soul this time. But, how will that work?_  
  
Michael rolled his eyes.  _Angels have walked the Earth before.  
  
Not since the birth of Jesus...and that was Gabriel...  
  
It’s not like I’m going to go all blazing in glory. I’ll go back, but as Mickey. No harm in that. But, this time I’ll be on their side._  
  
Lucifer frowned, uncertain. The Fallen Angel was hardly ever uncertain, but this was one time where he was a little nervous of the way the plan was working out.  
  
 _Do you think you’ll encounter my...?  
  
Perhaps...and perhaps you might be of the mind to enlighten him to the truth.  
  
Hah, but that would be no fun...and I seriously doubt that Pierre would approve of interference from up here._  
  
Michael floated over the pool and held up his arms in exasperation.  _Isn’t that what I’d be doing?  
  
You’re the one who says Mickey needs to go back,_ Lucifer pointed out, unhelpfully.  
  
Michael scowled.  _You have a point, but it is needful.  
  
So you say. Anyway what about Samiel? He’s doing a good enough job. I doubt he would be pleased to have the old Alma pater intervening._  
  
Michael sighed.  _Well, it was just an idea...perhaps it’s better off if ‘Mickey’ stays gone._  
  
A soft breeze picked up and blew past the two angels and then Raziel appeared looking disgruntled.  
  
 _Ah, Raziel, where have you been?  
  
Down below...below...found Mickey...floating around...soulless..._  
  
Michael snorted.  _That would be because he’s come back to me...  
  
Ah, that would do it._ Raziel sank down to float just above the grass.  _He should go back...  
  
Go back where?  
  
Back to Earth..._  
  
Lucifer raked his fingers through his hair.  _We were just discussing that._  
  
Michael folded his arms, still floating over the pool.  _Yes, and I’ve decided to go back as him...with all my faculties in place._  
  
Raziel frowned.  _That could be an issue though...Raph-Pierre won’t know that you are on his side.  
  
That’s easily fixed. I am capable of communicating my position.  
  
Fair enough, still it won’t be easy..._Raziel glanced at Lucifer.  _I think Samiel needs to get Pierre back to the dream realm...make it a little easier..._  
  
The Fallen One inclined his head in agreement.  _Do it._  
  
Raziel vanished. Michael relaxed and went back to gazing in the pool. Lucifer joined him and silence reigned.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _Heavenly Realms_**  
  
“Is this going to become a habit...because really...I’d like to just go back to having  _normal_  dreams...” Pierre flopped on his back and glowered up at Samiel.  
  
The angel just gave a smug grin.  _This is important, Raphael. Anyway, I thought you might want me to put your mind at ease after that harrowing experience you had with young Mickey._  
  
Pierre glanced at Samiel. “Not going to open your mouth?”  
  
 _It’s less taxing for me to talk to you like this._  
  
“Right, that makes a  _whole_  lot of sense...” He rubbed at his jaw. “So, ease my mind, eh? How’re you going to manage that? I felt like crap after I...well after that.”  
  
Samiel folded his arms, summer blue aura pulsing steadily.  _Just say it, Raphael...you opened the portal to Hell below. No one, no one but you...or Lucifer has the power to do that...must have been...intense..._  
  
Pierre laughed harshly. “I think I singed my eyebrows.”  
  
Samiel shook his head.  _Funny. So...how did you do it without anyone in the hotel noticing?_  
  
The singer looked thoughtful, dark eyes narrowed. “I’m not really sure. I sort of...made a...shield of some kind that blocked out any external energy, perhaps that prevented anyone from hearing or seeing what was going on. Not that the portal is really all that large...or even spectacular. It was kinda boring actually.” He gave a wry chuckle. “Pretty odd really.”  
  
Samiel floated above him then settled on the ground next to him.  _You must have really been angry._  
  
Pierre bristled, red sparks flying over the golden core. “Angry?  _Angry_? I was fucking  _furious_! Fuck...he had the  _fucking_ nerve-”  
  
 _Enough with the ‘fucking’, Raphael._  
  
Pierre and Samiel turned. Floating across the glade, green eyes positively glowing, flame red hair flickering in an unseen breeze, was the Archangel Michael. He wore a white robe very similar to Samiel’s, yet the sash he wore was a deep royal purple with a golden strip on one edge.  
  
 _Michael...you sure know how to make an entrance..._ Samiel grunted.  
  
Michael lifted an eyebrow, folding his arms.  _Well, that’s me all over, isn’t it, Samiel?  
  
True that._  
  
Pierre blinked. “I remember you...from...from before...” He rubbed at his hair; he couldn’t really figure out how he remembered him, perhaps from that first trip into his past, the first time he’d awakened in the dream realms. “You’re?”  
  
 _The Archangel Michael, Lucifer’s Lieutenant...and...I am also...the lad that you just so happened to send to Hell. But no matter, I’m...he’s absolutely fine._  
  
“What?”  
  
Michael sighed and held out both hands his form slowly transforming into the lanky redhead.  
  
“Holy Hell...” Pierre shivered. “I sent an angel to Hell...”  
  
 _Well, technically, no. I’ve been sitting at Heaven’s Gates...watching everything. Mickey is my mortal incarnation. As your lover, Patrick, is Samiel’s._  
  
Pierre squeezed his eyes shut. “Right...I think I get you...but still I sent...one of you to Hell...can’t be too good for the soul?”  
  
Michael laughed sourly.  _Not really, but Mickey survived it._  
  
Samiel snorted, looking directly at Pierre.  _By rights, all of us should be in Hell...but instead...you’re on Earth...I’m in the dream realms and with you, as Patrick...and well the others hang around Heaven’s Gates...awaiting the ‘day of triumph’._  
  
Pierre lay back again. “You make it all sound so...trivial.”  
  
 _Which it is not, I can assure you._  Michael’s tone was dry.  _And to impress upon you how serious this is...Pierre, I need you to take Mickey back into your service._  
  
Pierre jerked up into a sitting position. “What? But, he works for the CSS.”  
  
 _No. Not anymore. He’s your man now. Unless of course you don’t trust me?_  
  
Pierre sighed deeply. “If you say so, then it must be okay.”  
  
Samiel nodded.  _He does say so. By the way, you are planning on telling...me about this?_  
  
“Yes, I’ll tell Pat. I trust him too, remember.”  
  
 _How could you not? He’s me.  
  
Don’t get a big head, Samiel,_ Michael warned. Then he smiled at Pierre.  _One more thing...the woman..._  
  
Pierre stiffened. “Don’t talk to me about Annalise. I want the truth from her before I trust her again.”  
  
Michael squinted noting the darkening of the man’s aura.  _Fine. I’ll leave you to deal with her as you see fit...just...don’t be too rash. Things are not always, as they seem._  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes, and then closed them. “You don’t need to tell me that...can I go back to sleep now?”  
  
 _Sure...but be prepared...Pat’s going to want to know what’s been going on..._  
  
Pierre just nodded and slowly drifted away, back into a deep sleep. Before he completely slipped away, he heard Michael’s voice ringing in his mind, urgently, as if he’d just remembered something.  _Oh, Mother...Gabriel’s Rod...we need..._  
  
Pierre didn’t grasp the final part of the message as he succumbed to the pleasant world of sleep.


	11. What this world needs

_**Wednesday 4th December 2007  
  
Noon  
  
Holiday Inn  
  
Pierre and Pat’s Room**_  
  
 _Hey there, Delilah..._  
  
“Pierre, your phone!” Pat yelled from the bathroom.  
  
Pierre rolled off the bed and crawled over to the chair where he’d tossed his jeans. Rummaging in the pockets, he found his phone and flipped it open.  
  
“Pierre speaking...Jason? What is it now?” He groaned and got to his feet. “Fuck...no. Jamieson is going to meet me in Paris? What the hell for? He should be concentrating on Canadian politics...keep his nose out of our business.” He sighed. “Sorry. I know he wants to help...but, I’ve got it all sorted...yeah...I dealt with him.”  
  
He scratched at his right leg, glancing at Gabriel who was sitting on the end of the bed, watching him. “Oh...he wants to increase Quebec’s ties to France? Jeeze, what good will that do...Quebecois is so much different to French.”  
  
He flopped back onto the bed. “Hah, sure...it’s not about language, eh? Whatever, politics don’t really interest me.”  
  
He smeared a hand over his face. Gabriel lay down next to him, kicking his feet absently. Pierre pulled a face at his nephew only half-listening to his brother. Gabriel giggled.  
  
“Huh? Sorry...look, I need to go, Jase. Yeah. In Paris. I’ll be nice, don’t worry.”  
  
He hung up, rolled over and grabbed at his nephew tickling his sides. Gabriel let out a peal of laughter and grabbed at Pierre’s hands trying to push him away.  
  
“Stop!  _Tonton_  Pierre...I’m tickly there!”  
  
“Tickly, eh?” Pierre chuckled and stopped flopping on his belly. “I am too...but only Pat knows that.”  
  
Gabriel heaved an exasperated little sigh, changing the subject abruptly as only an observant eight year old could. “Who’s Jami...Jami...son?”  
  
Pat, who walked out of the bathroom, rolled his eyes. “He’s the Acting Prime Minister of Canada.”  
  
The little boy frowned. “Why is he acting?”  
  
“No, kid...what it means is that he’s Prime Minister until they re-elect a new official one...to take your Daddy’s place.” As soon as those words left his mouth, Pat wished he could take them back.  
  
Gabriel screwed up his face and almost instantly burst into tears. He rolled over and buried his face against Pierre’s left shoulder blade, sobbing desperately.  
  
Pierre glowered at Pat.  _Nice move, fucker._  
  
Pat shook his head.  _I forgot to take my foot out of my mouth..._  
  
Pierre ignored him, shifting so he could pull his nephew into his arms. He just held him, knowing for a certainty that words would do no good. No harm either, yet there was no point in saying anything.  
  
They hadn’t spoken of what happened to Jonathan. Pierre still had not gotten around to bringing up the subject, and what with everything that was going on, he didn’t need his emotions to get all out of whack as well. He had enough to deal with.  
  
However, Gabriel was another story. He was only a child and Pierre knew that where he was concerned, the sooner they talked about Jon and Angela’s deaths the better. Sure, the kid was holding up pretty well, but only because they were keeping busy.  
  
However, there were some slow, boring times coming up and Pierre knew that those times would probably be the worst for his nephew.  
  
Sighing, he squeezed Gabriel gently, and then looked up at Pat. “What time’s the flight?”  
  
“A late one...10 PM...sucky time, but it was the only one that was relatively decent, with arrival times and that.”  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face. “So we have time to go do something then?”  
  
“Yah, we don’t have to be at the airport until 8 PM...so we can go do something.”  
  
Pierre tilted his head a thoughtful expression in his dark eyes. “Well, I need to go check up on something first...then I reckon we should take Gabe to Underwater World, go swim with the dolphins.”  
  
“Great idea...but, uh...what is it you need to do first?” Pat looked confused.  
  
His boyfriend shook his head. “I’ll be back, okay? Maybe you should take Gabe down to grab a bite to eat. I won’t be long.” Pierre pushed up off the bed.  
  
Before he could leave though, Gabriel grabbed at his sleeve. “ _Tonton_  Pierre...are you gonna go see Michael...?”  
  
“Michael?” Patrick blinked. “Who’s that?”  
  
Pierre straightened and made for the door, glancing quickly at him. “Mickey...I’ll explain everything when I get back.” Then he walked out the door leaving Pat to ponder what he’d just said.  
  
 _ **Mickey’s Room  
  
12:20 PM**_  
  
Mickey lay on the floor flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He was counting each one of his breaths not certain that he was actually breathing. Pierre sat on a chair, just observing him as he came to.  
  
“Fuck...my head...” The young man held both hands to his temples, kneading at them vigorously.  
  
Pierre rocked on his chair. “Yeah, Hell would give you a bit of a headache.”  
  
Mickey laughed bitterly. “It wasn’t what I expected...”  
  
“No? It was hot though...”  
  
“Yeah, but...the devil...?”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “Isn’t what we think. Lucifer is an angel.”  
  
Mickey squinted at the older man. “I...know...I think?”  
  
“You think? Look, it makes no difference what you think. As long as you understand that, the only reason you’re alive is because I trust you to remain on our side. No more spying for the CSS.”  
  
The redhead smeared his hands over his face, sitting up. “I don’t think that’ll be much of an issue. They’ll be out to kill me anyway, since I failed. I might as well be on your side.”  
  
Pierre held up his right hand. “Well, somewhere deep inside you know you’re doing the right thing.”  
  
Mickey screwed up his face for a moment and then an odd light shone in his green eyes. “Yeah, you know, you’re right. I am. I am doing the right thing.” He blinked rapidly. “Funny...”  
  
He shook his head then clutched at it again. “Crap...my head...”  
  
He glanced up at Pierre and then a soft sigh escaped his lips and before Pierre could move, he fainted.  
  
“Fuck.” Pierre got up, crossed the floor and crouched by the younger man. “Mickey?” He leaned over and slapped at his face gently. “Hey? Mickey? Michael?”  
  
Mickey’s eyelids fluttered slightly and then Pierre heard a voice in his mind.  _Get him on the bed...I’m coming in...  
  
Michael?  
  
Yes, Raphael...get him on the bed._  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes and spoke out loud, “My name  _is_  Pierre, you know.”  
  
 _I know...just get him up..._  
  
Sighing, he lifted Mickey’s body up off the floor, grunting with the effort as he carried him over to the bed and lay him down.  
  
“What now?”  
  
 _Give me a moment..._  
  
Pierre stood back and tilted his head, eyes narrowed. He found it easier to view a person’s aura if he squinted. The fact that he could actually see them now with minimal effort hadn’t really occurred to him, it had just happened after he’d been shot.  
  
As he watched, Mickey’s clouded aura began to brighten and deepen, the blue almost glowing. It pulsed violently for several seconds then settled to a soft steady burn.  
  
As soon as it settled, Mickey’s eyes fluttered open. He gasped and began to breathe easy. Pierre shifted his weight nervously.  
  
“Michael?”  
  
“Yeah...” His physical voice sounded a little different; yet, it was still recognisable as the young man’s. “Great...this feels weird.” He sat up and ran his hands down the sides of his shirt. “Odd...”  
  
Pierre snorted, “Get used to it. This is the way we dress. Come on, you’d better get up. We’re going out. Well, at least, Pat and I are taking Gabriel out.”  
  
Mickey shook his head. “Poor kid must be getting bored.”  
  
“Yah. That’s why we’re going out.”  
  
The redhead frowned. “Bring Annalise.”  
  
“I was going to. No way I’m leaving her unattended.”  
  
Mickey sighed and stood, raking his fingers through his hair. “You should be a little more trusting...”  
  
Pierre scowled. “No. My life and Gabe’s is at stake. I won’t trust her unless she can prove that she won’t betray us.”  
  
“Fine. No skin off my nose. I’ll just keep a low profile, eh?”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Just stay close. I still have to explain to Pat about what’s going on.”  
  
Mickey stared at him. “You haven’t  _told_  him?”  
  
The older man groaned, shaking his head. “No. I don’t really know how to tell him.”  
  
“Almighty...you  _have_  to tell him. And I am  _not_  doing it for you.”  
  
“I’m not expecting you to.” Pierre paced across the carpet, scuffing his shoes. “I just need you to stay alert.”  
  
“Hah, the great Raphael  _needs_  me.”  
  
“Stuff you...” Pierre flicked him off.  
  
Mickey snorted. “Wow, that’s great, got anything better?”  
  
“Humph. Let’s go. Pat’ll be wondering where we are...and for God’s sake don’t call him Samiel, okay?”  
  
Mickey smiled. “Sorry, I have to call you Pierre too...it’s just weird.”  
  
“For you, maybe. But all of  _this_  life, I’ve been Pierre Bouvier...so yeah.”  
  
The younger man headed for the door then halted waiting for Pierre. “Yeah, well your next life...”  
  
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear about it.” He smirked. “Let me find out the old-fashioned way, okay?”  
  
“Okay.” Mickey shrugged nonchalantly. “Coming?”  
  
Nodding, Pierre walked passed the other man out into the hall. Mickey followed, making sure the door locked behind them.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _1:20 PM  
  
Singapore City Cab_**  
  
Annalise cast a furtive glance at the man sitting stiffly next to her. Pierre’s jaw was clenched, his eyes staring straight out the window, avoiding her. She chewed on her bottom lip. A barrier had gone up between her and his minds; therefore, she was unable to communicate with him psychically.  
  
She cleared her throat, but before she could speak, Gabriel, who was sitting on Pierre’s other side, began to bounce and call out excitedly. “We’re almost there,  _Tonton_  Pierre! Do we get to swim with the dolphins?”  
  
Pierre’s frozen expression melted away as he looked at his nephew. “ _Oui_. We do.”  
  
Pat turned around in the front and grinned. “And maybe the sharks too.”  
  
Mickey snorted from the back. “Yeah right, maybe Gabe is scared of them.”  
  
Pat looked sharply at him. Pierre still hadn’t gotten around to explaining the situation and so Patrick was extremely wary of the younger man. Mickey just shrugged and turned to look out the window.  
  
The five of them were in a Maxi Cab, which held more than five people, travelling to Underwater World. The band had been there before on their 2004 trip. They’d had a great time and so Pierre decided it was the best place to kill time before their flight to Paris. He also figured it would be a great way to tire Gabriel out so the kid would sleep for most of the flight.  
  
Gabriel giggled. “I’m not afraid of anything.”  
  
Pierre smiled faintly. “Of course not, kid.”  
  
He ruffled the boy’s blonde locks. Then his hand halted as he saw an image of his sister-in-law’s long blonde hair flash through his mind. He pulled his hand away and squeezed his eyes shut tight.  
  
Ever since the phone call, less than a month ago, Pierre had not allowed any memories of his brother or his sister-in-law encroach on his mind. He couldn’t afford to break down, not in front of Gabriel. He had to remain strong so he had not allowed himself to mourn.  
  
This was not healthy for him, he knew that, but there was no time. No time for him to crack. He had to look after his nephew, whilst promoting their new album.  
  
He took a deep breath and averted his face. However, that meant when he opened his eyes he found he was looking at Annalise. He made to bow his head. Annalise spoke then, causing him to pause in his motion.  
  
“Pierre? What’s wrong?”  
  
He pursed his lips, reluctant to respond.  
  
She tilted her head, anxiety evident in her soft gaze. “Please, tell me...I’d like to help.”  
  
Pierre grunted. “It’s none of your business. Just don’t talk, alright.” He shifted his body, tucking his chin into his chest.  
  
Annalise felt her bottom lip tremble. “Damn it, Pierre...I’ve done nothing to warrant you treating me like a criminal.”  
  
Pierre shot a disgusted look at her. “Shut it, Annalise.”  
  
She flinched and her eyes seemed to shimmer. “Pierre, please-”  
  
His head jerked up fast, eyes blazing. “Fucking hell! Just  _shut up_!”  
  
Anger, frustration and mistrust radiated from the man in almost visible waves of energy. Annalise actually shrank back from him. Mickey raised his eyebrows. Pat turned around and squinted at Pierre.  
  
Gabriel looked worriedly at his uncle; he could see black sparks flickering across Pierre’s aura. A sure sign that he was about to blow his top.  
  
The cab driver chuckled and shook his head -- he was used to volatile customers; he’d seen his fair share -- as he entered the gates of the Aquarium and parked in the taxi rank.  
  
“Here we are. You’ll have to walk the rest of the way, I can’t go any further.”  
  
Pat nodded and pulled out some cash to pay the cabbie. Pierre leaned over Annalise, who remained frozen in her seat, almost not daring to breathe. He pushed the door open and climbed past her to get out.  
  
Gabriel followed, and then Pierre turned to Annalise. “Get out.”  
  
She hastened to undo her seatbelt and clambered out of the cab. Pierre grabbed her left arm firmly.  
  
“Stay close,” he growled.  
  
There was a veiled threat in his voice. Annalise sensed that arguing against it would be a bad idea. She nodded. Pierre released her arm and headed for the ticket stand. Pat walked passed her, ignoring her. Gabriel had already run ahead.  
  
Mickey walked next to her and tilted his head to her.  _Don’t worry...Pierre will come around..._  
  
Annalise started and stared at him.  _What are you doing here still? I thought Pierre...? And. How can-?  
  
I’m not really Mickey. Well, I am. But I’m not as well._  
  
She groaned.  _Don’t confuse me._  
  
Mickey smiled gently.  _The name’s Michael._  He paused for a heartbeat.  _As in the Archangel.  
  
What? But, I...I never..._  
  
He laughed.  _I only just got here. You wouldn’t have known. I split my soul._  
  
Annalise lifted an eyebrow.  _You did what?_  
  
Mickey glanced at her, gauging whether he believed she would understand or not.  _Split my soul. Mickey was just one of my mortal incarnations. But now, I’ve decided to take over...for obvious reasons._  
  
Annalise folded her arms and looked ahead to where Pierre was paying for entry.  _Not obvious to me._  
  
The redhead rubbed his upper arms and frowned slightly.  _Not important._  He followed her strained look.  _Pierre will find out the truth, and when he does..._  
  
He stopped realising all of a sudden that the woman really did  _not_  want to know what Pierre was going to do.  
  
Mickey knew what Pierre would do, or more to the point the  _Archangel_  knew what Pierre would do because he had seen the future. And what he saw was not pretty. Harm would be done before trust was regained.  
  
Annalise scowled at him.  _When he does, what?_  
  
Mickey shook his head.  _Never mind. We’ll find out what he does when it happens._  
  
The woman shook her head, purple gaze wary. “Why are you still here, anyway?” she spoke out loud.  
  
Pierre heard her and walked back over to join them. “Michael is here because I insisted on it.”  
  
“But, he shot you.”  
  
Mickey snorted. “Mickey shot him.”  
  
“But, you are-”  
  
“Annalise, don’t ask questions.” Pierre pulled her away from Mickey, nodding his head to the red head.  
  
He went ahead to where Pat and Gabe were waiting by the entrance. He bent down to talk to the little boy, ignoring the scowl that Pat was directing at him.  
  
Pierre turned to look at Annalise. “I’d suggest keeping your mouth shut, okay? We’re here for Gabe. Stay close.”  
  
He moved to join the others, she trailed behind, lips pressed together firmly. She wasn’t looking forward to the rest of that afternoon.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _Singapore International Airport  
  
8 PM_**  
  
“Did you see that dolphin, Oncle Pat? It kept bumping into  _Tonton_  Pierre, with its beak.” Gabriel trotted next to Patrick as the band made its way to the ticket counter.  
  
Pat chuckled. “Maybe it was trying to give him a kiss, Gabe.”  
  
The boy giggled. Pierre walked passed. Pat and Gabriel watched him. He seemed tense, and the boy could see a dark cloud hovering at the core of his aura. He moved away from Pat and caught up to Pierre, grabbing at his hand.  
  
“ _Tonton_  Pierre...?”  
  
Pierre glanced down at his nephew. “Yeah?”  
  
“You okay?”  
  
He forced a smile. “Yah, I’m fine, Gabe.”  
  
“Didja have fun with the dolphins?”  
  
Pierre smiled a little more. “Yeah, they were amazing. Pretty cool, eh?”  
  
Gabriel nodded, a thoughtful expression passing across his young face. “Do you get scared,  _Tonton_  Pierre?”  
  
“Huh? Scared?” A frown returned to the man’s face. “Sometimes, but then I remember...I can’t be killed, and I’m all okay.” He grinned savagely. Then frowned as his cell phone began to vibrate in his back pocket. “Crap, I hope it’s not Jason...he keeps calling...”  
  
“Is that annoying,  _Tonton_?”  
  
Pierre laughed sourly. “Your Oncle Jay is a pain in the butt...” He tugged his phone out and flipped it open answering brusquely. “Bouvier speaking...who? What the fuck?”  
  
He froze at the voice at the other end. Gabriel saw the dark cloud spread over his aura. He released Pierre’s other hand and dashed over to Pat grabbing his arm.  
  
Pat glanced down. “What is it, kid?”  
  
“ _Tonton_  Pierre...something’s wrong...”  
  
He pulled him back over to Pierre. Pat scowled and reached out to rest a supportive hand on the back of his lover’s neck. Pierre flicked his eyes at him then squeezed them shut as he listened to the caller on the other end of the line.  
  
He nodded his head a few times, murmuring words of assent into the mouthpiece. Pat tilted his head unable to catch what was being said.  
  
After several minutes, Pierre said softly, “Fine. When we arrive in Paris, I’ll bring her to you.”  
  
Giving a firm nod, even though the person at the other end couldn’t see him, he flipped the phone shut, disconnecting the call, and tucked it back into his pocket.  
  
Pat blinked. “Who the hell was that?”  
  
Pierre looked at him, eyes vacant. “Annalise’s brother.”  
  
Pat’s eyes widened. “ _What_? You mean the one who apparently works for the CSS?  _That_  brother? What did  _he_  want?”  
  
Pierre’s lip curled. “I’m more bothered about how he got my fucking number.”  
  
“Hmmm, do you think?”  
  
He shot a fast glance toward Annalise, who was standing with Mickey. Pierre had asked the red head to keep an eye on her. Then Pat brought his eyes back to Pierre’s. His were narrowed.  
  
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking, Pat.”  
  
“So, you’re going to give him Annalise?”  
  
Shrugging, Pierre licked his lips. “Get her off our hands.”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“In Paris.”  
  
Pat rubbed at his face. “What about that contact she said that she had there?”  
  
Pierre laughed coldly. “Probably doesn’t even exist.”  
  
“Uhuh. Well, we’ll see when we get there, I s’pose.”  
  
“Mhm.” Pierre sighed, smearing a hand over his face. “Y’know, I’m actually looking forward to this flight...maybe I’ll get some sleep.”  
  
“But, you never sleep on planes...” Patrick raised his eyebrows.  
  
His boyfriend glowered at him. “I wonder whose fault that is?”  
  
“Right, blame me. I don’t mind.” He rolled his eyes.  
  
Pierre smiled weakly. “I’m sorry, babe.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. You’re a little stressed, I can tell. But, it’ll sort itself out once we get to Paris, right?”  
  
“I fucking hope so. I can’t take much more of this shit.”  
  
Pat slung an arm around Pierre’s neck, squeezing gently. “Well, it’s a good thing you have me then.”  
  
The bigger man grimaced, removing his arm from around his neck. “As long as you keep out of trouble.”  
  
“No worries. If I stick by you, I don’t think I’ll have a problem.”  
  
Pierre, shaking his head, moved to join the rest of the band; Patrick trailed behind, with Gabriel, who had been forgotten in the moment. Chuck handed out their boarding passes then turned to lead them to the gate lounge.  
  
In just over a day they would be in the country where their own native tongue originated; France was always one of their favourite places to visit. The food was great; the people were great. And they knew, like every other time, that this time would be no exception.  
  
Of course, Pierre was particularly looking forward to getting there because he believed that once there all the previous troubles would be cleared up and he wouldn’t have to worry anymore. At least that was the silent prayer he was praying, to whoever in Heaven would listen.  
  
Meanwhile, Annalise hovered at the fringe of the group not exactly being ignored but definitely not being included anymore. She looked like a lonely soul uncertain of her place in the world.  
  
Mickey, who was watching her, could sense her despondence and knew that she was hurt deep inside. Not only by the current situation, but, by something else that had happened in her past. He sidled closer to her.  
  
 _Hey...you okay?_  
  
She glanced up. Her eyes looked like deep purple bruises in her eye sockets.  _What does it look like, Michael?  
  
Not so good...look...I don’t know what’s going to happen when we leave here...but...just have a little hope, eh?_  
  
Annalise wrapped her arms around her breasts and shook her head.  _What’s the point? No one here trusts me anymore..._  
  
Mickey smiled weakly.  _I do. But, I’d not admit that to Pierre...not in his current frame of mind._  
  
She laughed faintly.  _Wise._  She sighed tiredly.  _I just hope...I hope he’s there...when we get to France...  
  
Who?  
  
My contact...Joscelin...  
  
A chick?  
  
No...it’s a guy..._ She paused.  _He...we...were once...together..._  
  
Mickey tilted his head.  _What happened?  
  
We...grew apart. Long story. But, we’re still...acquaintances._ The corner of her mouth quirked.  _He’s a beautiful, beautiful man._  
  
Mickey chuckled.  _If you could see what I really looked like..._  
  
Annalise smiled wistfully.  _All angels are beautiful, Michael. Even...the Fallen Ones._  
  
The red head flushed but then turned to look to the rest of the group. They had moved closer to the doors.  
  
Mickey sighed. “Well...here we go, you ready?”  
  
Annalise straightened her back, lifted her chin and gave an emphatic nod. “Yes. I am. As ready as I’ll ever be.”  
  
With that Mickey lead her over toward the band, and waited with the rest of them for the flight to be called.  
  
 ** _Paris, France  
  
Eiffel Tower  
  
2:45 AM_**  
  
Long wheat-blonde hair tied back in a rough braid, hanging like a rope down his back; Joscelin leaned against the railing, gazing across the city. This was his city, his domain, and his charge.  
  
He was a Commander in the French Army. At least that was his official position. Unofficially, he worked for the French branch of the  _L’Angelic_  Division.  
  
He worked undercover; and, he was good at what he did. In fact, no one, not even the men and women under him in the army knew who or what he really was. Even his name was something he had given himself when he joined the ranks of the LAD.  
  
Only he knew what his true name was. Well, there was one other person but she had promised never to tell.  
  
He smirked faintly, an image of his former lover flickering briefly in his mind’s eye.  _Annalise...the most beautiful woman on Heaven or Earth..._  
  
He sighed, pushing her from his mind. Bracing his palms on the railing, he squinted down at the ant-like crowds below. It wasn’t that busy since it was so early in the morning.  
  
However, the people who worked the city were up, even though the only light they had were the street lamps and the lights on the Tower. But, it was enough to see by. It was definitely enough for Joscelin.  
  
The pager clipped to his belt began to beep. Frowning, Joscelin unclipped it and held it up to read the screen.  
  
“ _Sacré bleu_...”  
  
He gripped it tight in his fist, glanced around to make sure that no one could see him, then squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself away from the Tower.  
  
Moments later he felt his feet touching soft carpet and he opened his eyes. He was standing in the ancient French Palace. The LAD used the old building as its Head Quarters. His Commander was standing with his back to him, facing a huge open fireplace.  
  
“ _Commander_?”  
  
The Commander turned to face the young man. “Joscelin. I am glad you’re here. There has been a development.”  
  
Joscelin pursed his lips. “What is that, sir?”  
  
“The Archangel  _Raphael_.”  
  
He blinked, summer blue eyes bright. “By the Almighty...”  
  
The Commander grimaced. “Annalise is with him, and she is in danger.”  
  
Joscelin swallowed. “If this has something to do with that CSS agent I’ve had my men track...?”  
  
“It is. He is her brother. And somehow, he managed to contact Raphael and convince him to hand her over to him. And she doesn’t know about it.”  
  
“ _Mon Dieu_...that is a problem.”  
  
“There is something else, Joscelin.”  
  
“Isn’t there always?”  
  
The Commander nodded. “ _Oui_. The agent is a mortal incarnation of  _Lucifer_.”  
  
“ _Holy_...” Joscelin shuddered. “Does he know?”  
  
“No. That is the only good thing.”  
  
“So. Raphael and Annalise? Where are they?”  
  
“On a flight coming from Singapore. Raphael is in his final and most highly developed mortal incarnation...Pierre Charles Bouvier.” The Commander chuckled. “Lead singer of the band, Simple Plan.”  
  
Joscelin rolled his eyes. “Trust Anna to get caught up with a rock star.”  
  
His superior snorted. “Pierre is...otherwise inclined.”  
  
The younger man blinked. “He’s gay?”  
  
“ _Oui. Samiel_  is with him. Patrick Langlois.”  
  
“Of course. Those two are twin souls,” Joscelin sighed, remembering.  _The Archangels...and the fallen sons of Lucifer..._  He shook his head and paced the floor. “So. Why do I need to know this?”  
  
The Commander became serious. “You need to intercept the band before the CSS does. Their flight arrives in an hour’s time.” He paused. “The boy, Gabriel -- Pierre’s nephew, is the one the CSS want. Make sure he is brought here safely.”  
  
Joscelin frowned. “The CSS have it wrong though. Gabriel is not the one they want...”  
  
“That’s true. But, they don’t know that.”  
  
The Commander allowed a cool smile to spread across his lips. “The Captain believes he has the original Prophesy; however, he has only the original  _copy. The_  original has been lost for millennia.”  
  
“More like hidden, sir.” Joscelin grinned wolfishly. “You know that it was never really lost.”  
  
“Just as I know who  _you_  really are, Joscelin.”  
  
The young commander snorted. “Don’t blow my cover, will you, sir? To the general public I am Commander JV of the Army’s 1st Regiment.”  
  
The Commander smirked. “And to the Angels’ of Heaven, you are the angel Cassiel...”  
  
Joscelin shook his head. “Sir.”  
  
“Do not worry, I would never betray that confidence, and neither would Annalise. Now, you had best be on your way. They will be landing shortly.”  
  
The blonde-haired man saluted, spun on his heel and vanished from the Palace as silent as a wraith. The Commander smiled and returned to contemplating the fireplace.  
  
 _ **Paris International Airport  
  
4 AM**_  
  
Pierre stared unseeing at the baggage carousel. Gabriel stood quietly next to his uncle, shifting from his left to right foot, his shoes shuffling against the floor. Pat moved silently up next to Pierre and cautiously wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  
  
“Hey, baby...whatcha thinking?”  
  
Pierre blinked, leaning back slightly. “Nothing, really.” He heaved a sigh. “Just wondering what he looks like...I mean, how will I know who it is.”  
  
Pat rubbed the back of his neck gently. “Why worry? He’ll probably come to us.”  
  
“That’s pretty smart of you.” The ice-cold voice spoke from their left.  
  
The two men swung around, moving so Gabriel was behind them. The man standing in front of them smirked faintly. He was dressed entirely in black, from the jacket and shirt to the shoes on his feet.  
  
Black eyes sparkled mirthlessly. “Don’t worry, Pierre. I promised I’d not touch the boy if you gave me what I requested.”  
  
Pierre gritted his teeth and jerked his head toward where the rest of their group was standing. “She’s over there. Take her and be done with it.”  
  
The man chuckled, pushing a lock of silvery hair from his face. He strode passed them and made his way toward where Annalise was standing with Mickey. They were facing the baggage carousel and didn’t hear the man until he was right behind them.  
  
“Hello, sis.”  
  
Annalise swung around, eyes widening. “What the hell?”  
  
The agent smirked. “Indeed.” He slowly looked her up and down, eyes glittering. “You’re hotter than I thought...” He chuckled cruelly. “I’m surprised Pierre would be willing to let go of you.”  
  
The woman blinked, rapidly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”  
  
Mickey tensed next to her, eyes narrowing. “Leave her alone.”  
  
The agent raised an eyebrow. “Well, well...if it isn’t Mickey Browne...I thought you’d disappeared...don’t worry, kid.” He took a threatening step toward the red head. “I’ll be back for you...” He stared hard into his eyes then swung round to Annalise catching hold of her arm. “You’re coming with me.”  
  
“No!” She tried to pull away.  
  
The agent growled and suddenly a pistol appeared in his hand. The rest of the guys who hadn’t really been taking any notice suddenly got interested and turned, scowling, wondering what was going on.  
  
Chuck stepped forward. “What are you doing?”  
  
Agent 78 sneered. “Maybe you should ask  _him_.” He nodded to Pierre, and then jabbed the gun barrel into Annalise’s side. “Move, sis...or I’ll put a bullet into your heart.”  
  
Pierre blanched. He hadn’t expected that. “Wait...”  
  
The others also joined in looking utterly confused. The agent, ignoring them, turned cold eyes to the big man.  
  
“Don’t. You wanted rid of her. So, I’m doing you a favour.”  
  
Annalise shuddered at her brother’s words and turned her gaze to Pierre’s. “You...you knew about this?” She trembled. “How?”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened. “He called me.” His eyes hardened. “I thought you might have given him my number.”  
  
“No! I told you I didn’t know him!”  
  
Her brother laughed. “You expect him to believe that, sis?”  
  
Annalise nodded, anger in her eyes. “I’d never willingly know someone like you!”  
  
“No matter, Pierre agreed to give you to me.”  
  
She shook her head. “I’m not going with you. I have to stay here with them...” She quickly scanned the group letting her gaze fall on Mickey.  _Help me..._  
  
The red head gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.  _I’m sorry, Annalise...just...just have hope...  
  
Hope?  
  
Hope...everything will come good..._  
  
Annalise bit her bottom lip hard and glanced up at her brother. His eyes were like bottomless pits, emotionless, uncaring. She let her chin drop to her chest, defeated.  
  
He gripped her arm tighter, pressing the pistol harder into her ribs.  
  
A wintry smile ghosted across his face, as he nodded to Pierre. “I’ll get outta your hair now...have a good tour, eh?”  
  
Pierre blinked. “That’s it? You’ll leave us alone now? Gabe’s safe?”  
  
Agent 78 snorted. “For now, Bouvier.” He winked and then without another word he vanished right in front of them, taking Annalise with him.  
  
“Holy crap!” Jeff exclaimed.  
  
Then an unknown voice several metres from their group yelled out in rage. “ _Putain de merde! ANNALISE!!!_ ”  
  
They swung around just in time to see a man with blonde hair fling himself at the spot where the agent had been standing. He let loose in a stream of distinctly Parisian swears then flopped on the floor and buried his face in his hands.  
  
Pierre blinked, but it was Mickey who moved forward to intercept the stranger. “ _Cassiel_?”  
  
The man lifted his head, squinting. “ _Michael_?”  
  
“Jeeze...look at you!”  
  
The stranger smirked bitterly. “Too late...too fucking late...I’m going to be in so much shit...” He slammed his palm against the floor. Then he scanned the baggage collection area. “Who the hell made sure no one saw that?”  
  
Gabriel, who was hovering near the guys, darted forward a strange look on his young face. “Me...”  
  
The man stared at the little boy. “ _Oh...Dieu...Gabriel..._ ”  
  
Pierre scowled not understanding what was going on. “Gabe...”  
  
The boy looked back up at him. “It’s okay,  _Tonton_  Pierre.”  
  
The blonde nodded his head. “Yeah, as long as I can locate Annalise before that bastard kills her.” He glared at Pierre. “You didn’t stop to think that he might do that, did you, Raphael.”  
  
“How the hell do you know me?”  
  
The blonde sighed. “I’m her contact here in Paris. I’m sure she told you.” He glanced at Mickey. “It’s a good thing you recognised me.”  
  
The red head shrugged. “It’s a good thing I was given a chance to come to my senses, Cassiel.”  
  
The man smirked. “Call me Joscelin.”  
  
“Mickey.”  
  
Joscelin raised his eyebrows. “Mouse?”  
  
“Ha ha, very funny.”  
  
The blonde smirked pushing up off the floor. He looked at Pierre who was still scowling at him.  
  
“Annalise never mentioned names.”  
  
Joscelin rolled his eyes. “Of course not. That is part of her training. Naming names can be dangerous.”  
  
He folded brawny arms across his chest. His eyes narrowed faintly. They were a deep azure blue.  
  
Pierre grunted. “Well, I guess she was telling me the truth about you then...”  
  
The blonde scowled. “What do you mean? Annalise never lies.”  
  
“Oh, and I guess you know her well enough to say that?” Pierre snarled. “She betrayed me...”  
  
“No.” Joscelin sighed deeply. “She’d never betray you. And as to how well I know her...we were together once. Intimately.”  
  
Pierre frowned. “Meaning?”  
  
Joscelin rolled his eyes. “I’m not spelling it out, suffice to say we had what you and Samiel have.”  
  
Pat lifted an eyebrow. “Patrick...”  
  
“Sorry, Patrick. I have to stop calling people by their real names, eh?”  
  
“But that is-”  
  
Mickey interrupted, “He knows, Pat.”  
  
Pat was about to retort, but Joscelin cut him off. “Look, whatever any of you think, we don’t have time to waste. We have to get Annalise.”  
  
Pierre responded harshly, “No. She’s not our concern anymore.”  
  
“How do you figure that?”  
  
“Let them do what they want. We’ll be safe.”  
  
“No.” Joscelin groaned, pushing his hands over his hair. “No. He’ll kill her... _merde_...don’t you care about that?”  
  
Pierre just shrugged. “Why should I?”  
  
“Because...she never did anything wrong...” Joscelin tilted his head back and mumbled almost to himself. “At any rate I need to get all of you to the Palace. And then I’ll go and get her myself.”  
  
Pierre glowered at him. “No. We have to get to our hotel, rest and then we have a full day of interviews and radio shows.”  
  
Joscelin grunted. “The hotels here are shit. Better I board you at the Palace. I am being serious. This is not a place you want to get caught out in. Anyway, I know you have questions, and I can answer the ones that Annalise was unable to.”  
  
Pat moved closer to Pierre and rubbed at his arm. “Maybe we should?”  
  
Pierre scratched his cheek. “How do we know we can trust you?”  
  
Joscelin took a deep breath then glanced at Gabriel who was jumping impatiently from one foot to the other. “Your nephew, Pierre. If I wasn’t trustworthy...he’d know.”  
  
Pierre glanced at the boy. “Gabe?”  
  
Gabriel just nodded smiling. “Can we go??”  
  
Joscelin chuckled. “Kids...always so impatient to get going.”  
  
He raised his eyebrows at the group. “Shall we?”  
  
Pierre glanced toward Chuck, who just shrugged, as if to say, we’ll go wherever you take us.  
  
Then he looked at Pat. “Pat?”  
  
“We might as well.”  
  
Pierre sighed and looked at Joscelin. “Alright...we’ll go with you.”  
  
“Great. That’s a relief.” The blonde swung around and made for the exit.  
  
The guys grabbed their bags and followed.


	12. Awakening

_**The Palace  
  
Parisian L’Angelic Division  
  
Head Quarter’s  
  
8 AM**_  
  
“ _Find her_! I don’t want a stone left unturned! Do you hear what I am saying?” Joscelin snarled into his phone.  
  
He hadn’t slept since arriving back at the Palace. After boarding the band and their crew in the guest wing of the ancient building, he’d taken himself to his office on the uppermost floor and contacted his own crew.  
  
He knew that the sooner he set them to the task of finding Annalise the higher chance they had of succeeding. After all, there was no knowing what the CSS had in store for her. For all he knew they could be planning to execute her and that was one thing he would not tolerate.  
  
He had one advantage though, and that was that no one had ever, not ever, died on his watch. He would not allow this situation to become the exception.  
  
Pacing the goat’s fleece rug that covered the marble floor, his shoe’s made no sound as he moved. He scowled as his man on the other end spoke hesitantly, unsure of what he was being told to do.  
  
“ _Merde_! This is of utmost important. You have to find her, otherwise they will kill her.” He groaned, absently twisting his braid around his left wrist. “Is this too difficult for you? Because if it is, just say the word and I’ll deal with it myself. No?”  
  
He lifted an eyebrow. “Well, then, contact me when you have made some progress. I do not need to tell you of the consequence should you fail.”  
  
He slammed the phone down and continued to pace, deep in thought.  
  
“Want some help?”  
  
He spun around to see Pierre leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. There was darkness to his presence and strangely, Joscelin found that somewhat reassuring. He lifted his chin, staring grimly at the other man.  
  
“You should still be asleep.”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Couldn’t. We have to be at the local radio station at noon. And at any rate, I couldn’t sleep.”  
  
He rubbed at his bare arms.  
  
Joscelin tilted his head. “That’s some decent ink you have there.”  
  
“Yah, hurt like a bitch though.”  
  
“I don’t doubt it.” He paused. “I thought you didn’t trust me?”  
  
Pierre wiped a hand over his face. “I had an epiphany.”  
  
“Really?” A quizzical light shone in Joscelin’s eyes. “What kind?”  
  
Pierre laughed. “An angel told me that I could trust you.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah, my own nephew. You were right. Gabriel  _does_  know.”  
  
“He’s an amazing child, Pierre. And you’re doing a great job looking after him.”  
  
“I think it’s more sheer luck than anything else. I’m not really doing anything, he seems to spend more time with everyone else.”  
  
Joscelin smirked. “Perhaps the fact that he’s not the real threat is what’s protecting him.”  
  
Pierre arched an eyebrow stepping into the large office. “What do you mean?”  
  
“You don’t know the real prophecy do you?”  
  
“Annalise...”  
  
“Ah, but Annalise wasn’t privy to the classified documents, or the truth as it were.”  
  
“And  _you_  are?” Pierre sounded sceptical.  
  
The blonde warrior leaned against a desk situated in the middle of the room. “I know a lot more than most. And speaking of knowing. Why haven’t you told Pat about Michael?”  
  
Pierre was startled by his question. “How do you know about that?”  
  
Joscelin laughed. “Cassiel knows all. Annalise told you that the LAD kept tabs on you, right. Well, we here in France  _are_ The LAD. Of course, there are branches all over the world. But, we are the beginning, and the end. Anyway, that’s not important. Tell Pat about Michael...and then Pat might just explain the prophecy to you.”  
  
Running his fingers through his dark hair, Pierre scowled. “Are you telling me that my Pat, knows the true prophecy?”  
  
“Well, Samiel does.”  
  
Shaking his head, the singer sat on the floor and gripped his shins, frowning at the floor. “You said you could tell me things that Annalise couldn’t?”  
  
Joscelin moved to crouch in front of him. “I could. Or you could figure it out for yourself.”  
  
Pierre glared at him. “Or you could stop dicking me around.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Forget it. Tell me about Annalise.”  
  
Joscelin raised his eyebrows. “What is there to tell you? She’s on our side. But you think she betrayed you. Which really, is stupid. And, I’ve a feeling you know more than you’re letting on.”  
  
Pierre sighed deeply. “Maybe I do. Maybe I got something from her...I don’t know. I...can read minds, y’know?”  
  
“That’s part and parcel of what you are.” Joscelin shrugged moving to sit next to him. “I can too. But, I don’t have to be touching a person to do it.”  
  
“I do...”  
  
“You’ll learn not to need it.”  
  
Pierre smiled faintly, and then allowed it to fall away. “So. Annalise...I got something from her. But, I don’t know whether to trust it. She’s got a strong mind, she could be pretending to be truthful...” He paused. “So...what do you think that agent will do?”  
  
Joscelin chewed on his bottom lip. “He’ll kill her.”  
  
“But...she’s his sister.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“So? You’d think that would count for something.”  
  
“Not when you work for the CSS. You have to be willing to betray everyone you ever cared for if you work for them. You can only look out for yourself.” Joscelin’s eyes hardened. “Not so difficult when you’re a bastard to begin with.”  
  
Pierre tilted his head. “You’ve met?”  
  
“Yeah...before Annalise became really active with the LAD.” He sighed deeply. “He’s a right nasty piece of work. And so I definitely wouldn’t put it past him to kill her.”  
  
He frowned as his pager went off. He glanced down at it, scanning the message that was scrolling the screen.  
  
“Oh, fantastic.” He looked up at Pierre. “They’ve found her. He’s taken her to a disused warehouse on the outskirts of the city.”  
  
Pierre raised his eyebrows. “That didn’t take long?”  
  
Joscelin smiled coldly. “My crew are the best there is.” He pushed up off the floor. “I’d better go.”  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face. “I’ll come with.”  
  
“Don’t you have to go get ready for interviews?”  
  
“How long are you planning to take?”  
  
Joscelin rolled his eyes. “An hour max.” He thought for a moment. “Get Patrick and Michael. And meet me down at the front entrance.”  
  
Pierre frowned. “Why Pat?”  
  
Joscelin shook his head, the long braid flicking a little. “There’s no time to explain. Just...do it, okay?”  
  
The singer smirked and salute almost mockingly. “Yes sir.”  
  
The blonde scowled. “Pierre.”  
  
“Alright, I’ll get them. See ya in five?”  
  
Joscelin growled as he swung around to vanish. “See you yesterday...”  
  
Pierre blinked then shook his head squeezing his eyes shut tight.  _Maybe...maybe I can do that too...?_  
  
He concentrated on bringing up a clear image of Pat in his mind and the next he realised he was on the floor in the room that he was sharing with his lover and his nephew.  
  
“Christ...”  
  
He opened his eyes. He was on the floor on his stomach. A soft laugh caught his attention. He lifted his head; Pat was sitting on the edge of the bed head cocked to one side.  
  
“I have to teach you to land on your feet, eh?”  
  
“Um...yeah, if that’s possible?”  
  
Pat chuckled. “Definitely. What’s the rush?”  
  
Pierre sat up carefully, stretching his legs. “You, me and Mickey...we need to go somewhere with Joscelin. To...get Annalise.”  
  
Pat blinked, but strangely made no comment to the contrary. Instead he smiled faintly, jerking his chin toward where Gabriel was curled up in the smaller bed.  
  
“Gabe woke before and said something about her...can’t remember what. But, I think we need to get to her pronto.”  
  
Pierre smeared his hands over his face. “Yah. Joscelin would agree. I’m gonna go grab Mickey, meet me down at the entrance.”  
  
As he made to leave, Pat grabbed his arm and pulled him back, leaning his forehead against his broad back. “You still haven’t explained the whole Mickey/Michael thing to me...” His voice was tight.  
  
Pierre breathed out harshly. “I’ll get him to explain...it’ll be easier to understand coming from him.”  
  
Pat’s breath quickened. “Just don’t forget.”  
  
Pierre looked back at him and smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry, babe. I won’t, okay?”  
  
Pat sighed, nodding. “Okay. Go. I’ll meet you down there...”  
  
Pierre took a deep breath and vanished, this time managing to land on his feet, but then tripping over Mickey’s bag.  
  
“Fuck!”  
  
Mickey lifted an eyebrow. He wasn’t in bed. The red head was sitting backwards on an ornate velvet covered chair, arms folded against the back.  
  
“Okay, Bouvier?”  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face, climbing to his feet. “Joscelin says-”  
  
“He’s found Annalise. I figured. We going with him?”  
  
“Um, yeah...” The singer shook his head. “I’m not going to ask how you know that...”  
  
“Wise. I’d probably confuse the hell out of you.”  
  
Pierre smirked. “Of course.”  
  
Mickey stood, grabbing his phone and wallet. “Hey...you still have her phone, don’t you?”  
  
Pierre tucked his hand in his back pocket and pulled it out, noting that there had been several calls that he’d missed hearing. He squinted at the ID. They were all from his brother. The red head noticed his bemused expression.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Pierre shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Oh, just something I need to figure out. Come on, we’d better go.”  
  
Mickey nodded and joined the older man in the middle of the room. They glanced quickly at each other and then closed their eyes and vanished from the room.  
  
 ** _Deserted Warehouse  
  
9:15 AM_**  
  
Her whole body ached. That was the first thought that came to Annalise’s mind as she came to. Her temples throbbed, her ankles felt as if they were rubbed raw.  
  
Groaning, she dragged her eyelids apart. As they parted, she caught glimpses of dust motes hanging in the muggy air around her.  
  
She lifted her head, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. A musty smell assaulted her senses. She could see that she was in a small room sealed off from a much larger chamber. That was all she could register.  
  
She stretched her arms, then tried to get up, finding that she couldn’t get far. Secured to her ankles was a set of metal cuffs. That was probably what was causing the chafing. She slumped to the floor and buried her face in her hands a sense of despondency overwhelming her senses.  
  
 _Shit..._  Annalise trembled, tears filling her eyes.  _Shit...shit..._  
  
She took a deep shuddering breath.  _Where am I...what’s going to happen? Merde...what am I supposed to do..._  
  
“You know what you’re going to do. You’re going to die.”  
  
Her head jerked up, eyes widening as the silver-haired agent, her brother, materialised in front of her. He moved closer, the soles of his black combat boots barely making a sound on the concrete floor.  
  
Pausing a couple of feet away, he rolled up the sleeves of the black shirt that he wore, exposing a skull and crossbones tattoo on his left forearm.  
  
“ _You! Sonofabitch! Let me go_!”  
  
Annalise backed up against the wall and glared furiously at the agent. Her heart was racing, pounding in her chest. She felt it would burst from her ribcage.  
  
He laughed cruelly. “Oh, I can’t do that, sis.” He moved to crouch close, dark eyes glittering menacingly. “But, I can make it easy for you. If you cooperate with me.”  
  
Annalise swallowed hard, pressing further into the wall. “Wh-what do you mean?”  
  
Agent 78 smirked icily. “You have information about the boy, that I have not been able to acquire. If you give it to me willingly, I may think about letting you choose the manner of your death.”  
  
“Bastard! You think I’ll betray him to you?”  
  
“Pierre Bouvier already thinks you’ve betrayed them, you might as well give him something real to accuse you of.”  
  
Annalise shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Over my dead body!”  
  
The agent sighed heavily, shaking his head. Slipping a hand to his belt, he drew a long bladed hunting knife. The steel of the blade was a deep blue-black, the edge looked razor-sharp, lethal. Annalise felt a chill race through her body at the sight. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat.  
  
He stared almost lovingly at the blade, smoothing his index finger along the flat of the blade. Turning it slowly, light glinted off the tip. He glanced up at Annalise, and then before she could move, he was on her. She hadn’t even seen him move.  
  
He pushed her down on to her back, seizing her wrists in one hand, pinning them to the floor above her head. He shifted, placing a knee on her stomach, and carefully laying the edge of the knife against her throat.  
  
Annalise’s pupils dilated, and she gasped at the suddenness of his motions. A tiny whimper escaped her lips.  
  
The agent smiled tightly. “Now, this is what’s going to happen. You tell me what I want to know, or...I will slowly skin you alive.”  
  
She began to shake her head. The agent sneered, and swiftly nudged the point deeper into her skin, the tip biting in and slowly parting the top layer of skin. Then he slowly began to draw the point across her throat. Annalise whined; the pain was unbelievable. She didn’t dare try to buck him off though for fear of impaling her neck on the knife.  
  
She squeezed her eyes shut tight, turning her face away. Agent 78 growled and halted the knife for a moment.  
  
“Well?”  
  
“No...I...won’t...” Her voice quavered, as she silently sent out a call for help.  _Help...please...anyone..._  
  
Her brother snarled and slid down slightly, slashing the blade down through her top and bra, ripping them away. Then he set the tip of the knife against the hollow at the base of her throat and slid it down, slicing the top layers of skin with ferocious intent.  
  
Annalise screamed. Searing pain jolted through her body and she jerked under her captor’s body.  
  
“No! No...ahhh...no!”  
  
He continued dragging the tip down between her breasts, down toward the curve of her belly. She cried from the pain, a long line of red forming against her pale skin, blood beading where the blade sliced.  
  
“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll stop.” He brought his lips close to her ear. “I don’t have to keep doing this...just tell me and I’ll stop.”  
  
She shook her head hard. The agent sighed, almost in regret. Sitting back slightly, he put the knife to one side, and pinched one side of the sliced skin between the index and thumb of his right hand. And then he began to pull, slowly peeling the top layer from her body. Annalise stiffened, her whole body shuddering at the horrific sensation.  
  
“ _Ahhhhhhhh_!” She screamed again, this time for much longer, barely catching her breath.  
  
The agent chuckled coldly. “Going to tell me now?”  
  
Annalise gulped weakly. “No way...no fucking way...”  
  
He shook his head, eyes gleaming darkly. “So be it.” The corners of his lips curved into a deadly grin. “It gets worse from here...scream as much as you want...no one will hear you.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _Help...help...help!_  
  
The voice in Pierre’s head was getting louder, and more urgent. He clamped his hands to his forehead, squeezing. Joscelin, Mickey and Pat had gone a head of him, scouting the alleyway they’d appeared in once they’d left the palace. Pat looked back and caught the pained expression on his face.  
  
“Pierre? What is it?”  
  
Joscelin also looked back, frowning. The singer lifted his head brushing his scraggly hair from his face.  
  
“I can hear her.”  
  
The blonde turned and walked back to him, bright blue eyes forceful. “You can hear her?”  
  
Pierre nodded. “She’s crying out for help. It’s been getting louder as we keep moving.”  
  
Pat joined them, leaving Mickey to keep an eye out for trouble. He moved to drape an arm around Pierre’s shoulders. He could feel the tension in his muscles and slowly rubbed a thumb into one of his pressure points to help ease it.  
  
Pierre shot a grateful look at his boyfriend then brought his eyes back to Joscelin.  
  
“I think I can pinpoint an exact location.”  
  
“You think?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Bear with me, Joscelin. I’m still trying to figure out what I can do.”  
  
“A lot more than you realise, I bet.” He chuckled. “You’re getting much better at teleporting.”  
  
Mickey yelled from the other end of the alley, “Yeah, he didn’t fall over anything that time!”  
  
Pierre flipped him off, and then closed his eyes, straightening and concentrating. After several seconds, his eyes snapped open.  
  
“East. Direct line.” He held out his hands. “Hold hands. I can take us to where she is.”  
  
Joscelin blinked, impressed, then he grabbed Pierre’s right hand; Pat grabbed his left and took hold of Mickey’s right hand. Mickey linked hands with Joscelin’s free one.  
  
“Okay...take us there, Pierre,” Joscelin nodded.  
  
Pierre gave a quick nod, took a deep steadying breath and, in a blink of an eye, vanished the four of them from the alley.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 ** _The Warehouse  
  
9:30 AM_**  
  
The four men breathed out, opening their eyes finding themselves inside a large, empty warehouse.  
  
Joscelin scowled. “Pierre...are you sure this is the place?”  
  
Pierre cast his narrowed gaze around the building. A large concrete expanse spread around them. The walls were solid concrete as well. He glanced up at the ceiling. Metal beams criss-crossed above them. He released the others’ hands and raked his fingers through his hair.  
  
“I’m as sure as I can be...”  
  
He chewed on his bottom lip, scanning the space. He frowned when he noticed movement near a stack of large metal boxes. Holding his hand up for the other’s to wait, he carefully approached the boxes.  
  
“Is there anyone there?”  
  
 _Raphael?_  
  
Pierre took a step back and blinked surprise flitting across his face. The others joined him to see what he was looking at. There sitting up on its haunches was a huge ginger cat.  
  
Green eyes stared uncompromisingly at them. It let out a yowl and a larger figure moved from behind the metal crates.  
  
“ _Jason_?” Pierre blinked more. “Crap, what are you doing here?”  
  
The Lt-Col shook his head stepping forward to look at the four men standing before him, all of them wearing confused expressions.  
  
“You weren’t answering Anna’s phone.” Jason scowled. “I assume you still have it.”  
  
Pierre gave a tight nod. “Yeah. I do. And I saw the missed calls...but I was a bit preoccupied.”  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
Joscelin stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”  
  
Pat supplied the answer. “He’s Pierre’s older brother.”  
  
Jason nodded staring hard at the blonde. “Lt-Col Jason Charles Bouvier. And you are?”  
  
“Joscelin, agent of the  _L’Angelic_  Division.”  
  
Pierre’s brother frowned. “How did you get here?”  
  
“Teleported.”  
  
“Ah, of course...why here?”  
  
Pierre’s voice was strained as he replied. “Annalise is here. The CSS...got her.”  
  
Jason turned his sharp gaze to his younger brother. “I know. Septimus told me what you did. How could you be so stupid?”  
  
Pat, Mickey and Joscelin looked between the brothers curious.  
  
Pierre swallowed hard. “I told you I thought she was working undercover for the CSS.”  
  
“What do you think now, little brother?”  
  
Pierre groaned, pulling at his hair. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I just think that the important thing is getting her out before...before something happens.”  
  
Jason nodded slowly, but before he could say anything, the sound of someone laughing echoed around the abandoned warehouse. The five men and the ginger cat swung around to see the silver-haired agent standing on top of one of the boxes.  
  
Pierre felt a surge of anger swell inside him, his stomach churning. Joscelin’s hand went to the pistol clipped to his belt. Mickey tensed, his aura swirling dangerously. Septimus’s hackles went up, green eyes glowing. Jason frowned deeply; and Pat drew back uncertain.  
  
Agent 78 jumped down from the crates and strolled toward them, cold eyes glittering in cruel amusement.  
  
“I hate to inform you, but you’re too late. Annalise...has been dealt with.” He chuckled, tilting his head toward a door that none of them had noticed before. “She’s through there. And, I just have to say...she begged, y’know. Before I killed her...she begged for her life.”  
  
Joscelin snarled, but before he could move, Pierre grabbed the back of his shirt, holding him back. The blonde glanced sharply at him.  
  
“Let me go...I ought to...”  
  
Pierre hung on, shaking his head; his own anger had solidified into a cold hard ball of fury settled in the pit of his stomach. The agent snorted, mirthlessly.  
  
“What will you do? She’s dead. Nothing you do to me will change that.”  
  
“You bastard! You fucking bastard!” Joscelin was trembling such was his rage. “You-!”  
  
Agent 78 held up his hands, smirking coldly. “Catch me if you can.”  
  
Then he vanished from their presence.  
  
“Baise!” Joscelin swore angrily.  
  
Mickey scowled. Jason shook his head and turned to make for the door. Pierre followed, Pat trailing behind him.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Going in there...if Annalise is...” The elder Bouvier trailed off as he peered around the doorway. Then he exclaimed in horrified shock. “ _Holy Hell..._ ”  
  
He froze in the doorway. Pierre grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back, myriad questions racing through his mind, first and foremost being: what the hell was his brother looking at? He stepped passed him into the small, yet bare storeroom.  
  
He cast his gaze across the room and then his searching eyes halted on the scene that his brother had reacted to. The colour drained from his face and his stomach dropped. The blood began to pound in his temples. The fury balled deep in his stomach lurched, and he suddenly saw red, his anger surfacing in an inexplicable manner.  
  
The others who were still standing outside the room were wondering what was going on but before they could walk in to investigate, the ginger cat jumped in front of them, barring their way, hissing furiously. Jason didn’t object. However, Joscelin made to shove the stubborn feline aside.  
  
Septimus yowled.  
  
Then it was as if a bomb went off in the building. An explosion of black light filled the whole storeroom.  
  
“ _Putain de merde_!” Joscelin stumbled backwards, grabbing hold of both Mickey and Pat’s arms pulling them away from the doorway.  
  
Jason went pale and glanced down at his guardian.  _Septimus...?_  
  
The cat snarled, hackles bristling, tail stuck up in the air all the fur extended like a feather duster, green eyes glowing as he stared through the doorway.  
  
Pat swallowed hard. “What...what’s wrong, Jay?”  
  
Jason looked back over his shoulder; the cat yowled again and this time they all understood what he was saying.  _Raphael just lost his temper! Get down, cover your heads...and whatever you do, don’t let go of each other..._  
  
The cat’s voice rose in their minds as powerful gusts of wind began to sweep through the warehouse.  _Aniel...get them out of here...I’ll go in and get Raph and Annalise..._  
  
Jason nodded his head, grabbing the back of Mickey’s shirt. “Hang on!”  
  
Pat scowled. “What about Pierre?”  
  
“No time...we have to get out of here.”  
  
Joscelin swung his head around, his body flat on the ground. “We can’t leave them here!” He had to yell to be heard over the roaring sound that had filled the building.  
  
Jason groaned. The black light was expanding out of the small storeroom and filling the ceiling space of the warehouse, gold and red sparks twining around the crossbeams.  
  
Pat blinked. “Fuck...is...is Pierre doing that?”  
  
Mickey shivered. “Looks like it.” He glanced at Jason. “Get us out of here, Aniel...”  
  
A smirk flickered across the elder Bouvier’s face. “Right on it, Michael.”  
  
He tightened his hold on the back of Mickey’s shirt and with a single blink of his eyes the warehouse vanished from around them and in moments they landed in a large flower garden.  
  
“Shit.” Pat held his head in his hands, blinking rapidly.  
  
Joscelin chuckled surveying the landscape, recognising it immediately. “Hey, this is the Canadian Consulate.”  
  
Jason rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, I came to Paris with Acting Prime Minister Granger. That’s the official reason I was here.”  
  
Mickey lifted an eyebrow at the Lt-Col. “Official reason?”  
  
Jason nodded. “As head of security.”  
  
Joscelin wandered around the beautiful garden, bending down to smell a large bunch of orange roses.  
  
“What’s the unofficial reason?”  
  
Jason raked tense fingers through his hair. “I have contacts in the LAD.” He hesitated before continuing, “One of them is Annalise. The other is the French Commander. He was the one who alerted me when something happened to Anna.”  
  
Pat, who had slumped onto the ground, glanced up with an anxious look in his eyes. “How do you think Pierre’s going?” He rubbed furiously at his eyes. “And how is he going to find us here?”  
  
Pierre’s older brother smiled gently. “Don’t worry, Septimus will get them here.”  
  
Patrick scowled. “And what the hell happened to Annalise?”  
  
“He skinned her alive.”  
  
The four men turned their heads swiftly as Pierre materialised in their midst, he looked dishevelled, exhausted. Annalise appeared moments later, looking perfectly unharmed. Septimus appeared a second after her and without a sound sprang up into one of the trees and disappeared from view.  
  
“Annalise?”  
  
Joscelin blinked, surprised. “Uh...you don’t look...”  
  
The woman smiled savagely, purple eyes flashing. “Pierre’s very good at what he does, Jos.”  
  
Pierre blushed slightly, swaying a little on his feet. “Damn Annalise...I didn’t even realise that I’d healed you.”  
  
Annalise’s smile softened. She gave him a tender look, touching a hand lightly to his shoulder. “I know. You lost your temper. But, it was a good thing, for me.”  
  
Jason chuckled. “Lost your temper, eh Pierre. Understatement of the year.”  
  
Pierre flopped down on the ground on his back, and rolled his eyes up at his elder brother. “You’re telling me. I felt like I could kill anyone who dared stand in my way...”  
  
Joscelin halted his exploration of the garden and said something that caused them all to think for a moment.  
  
“Pity that the agent got away...would’ve liked to have seen what you could have done to him.”  
  
Pierre looked away a glazed look coming to his dark eyes, pressing the heels of his hands into the sockets and letting out a deep, worn-out, sigh. Pat shuffled over to sit next to Pierre’s head, running his fingers through his lover’s tangled, sweat-soaked hair.  
  
Mickey leaned against a tree folding his arms; Joscelin crouched down and absently began pulling at a blade of grass. Jason turned to look at Annalise expression weary. She tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look.  
  
“What is it, Jason?”  
  
“I’ve been trying to contact you.”  
  
Annalise laughed tiredly. “Pierre has my phone.”  
  
“I know, he answered the first few times.”  
  
Pierre looked over, and pulled the phone from his back pocket. “Here.”  
  
Jason was closer so he retrieved the cell phone and turned to hand it to the woman. Annalise smiled in thanks, tucking it into her own back pocket. Then a small frowned creased her brow.  
  
“Why have you been trying to get in touch with me?”  
  
Jason paused, then gently took hold of her arm. “Now isn’t really the time to talk to you about it. But, perhaps when Pierre and Pat leave to join the rest of the band...?”  
  
Annalise looked over to the couple. Pierre waved a dismissive hand their way.  
  
“Go ahead.” He shifted his gaze up to Pat’s smiling faintly. “I think we need to get going.”  
  
Mickey pushed away from the tree. “I’m coming with you guys.”  
  
Joscelin frowned, glancing at Jason and Annalise. The woman turned to look at the blonde man.  
  
“Joscelin...” She swallowed hard. “I...”  
  
He shook his head. “I need to get back. Let the Commander know you’re alright.”  
  
“And then what?”  
  
He struggled with something in his mind then growled angrily. “I’ll track that agent down and make him pay for what he did to you.”  
  
Pierre, as he was standing, interrupted, his voice harsh. “No. I will.”  
  
They all looked at him.  
  
Jason rubbed at his face. “Pierre. Your duty is to Gabriel. Let Joscelin deal with the CSS.”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened. “Gabe will be fine. Fuck, Jay. I’ve got all this rage I’m trying to control. I need to let it out some time.”  
  
His elder brother tilted his head thinking hard. “Okay...well...I can’t be responsible for your safety.”  
  
Pierre clenched his hands, body tensing up, and anger burning in his eyes. “I’m not asking for protection! And what the hell are you doing here anyway?”  
  
Jason smirked. “I came with Jamieson, remember I told you he was going to meet you here?”  
  
“Oh...yeah.” Pierre was suddenly deflated. “Is that still happening?”  
  
The elder Bouvier laughed. “It was never the real plan. I just didn’t want you to think I was coming to check up on you. I know that you treasure your independence.”  
  
“Too right,” Pierre grumbled, turning away a little.  
  
Pat moved up next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and propping his chin against his shoulder. He murmured soothingly into the bigger man’s ear. The tension began to ease from his body. His chin dropped to his chest, exhaustion clearly written all over his features. The others watched on, all of them smiling.  
  
“Well, lover boys,” Joscelin chuckled gently, “we’d better get back to the Palace.” He shot a look toward Jason and Annalise. “Are you coming or staying?”  
  
The Lt-Col and the woman quickly looked at each other then back at the blonde LAD agent. Annalise rubbed a hand over her face.  
  
“We’ll stay for now.”  
  
She added, looking directly into Joscelin’s bright blue gaze, “I’ll come see you after...”  
  
Joscelin bowed his head to her, then grabbed the sleeve of Pat’s shirt, holding his other hand out to Mickey and vanished the four of them, without a sound, from the garden.  
  
As soon as they’d disappeared from view, Jason turned his attention to the woman standing next to him. “Do you know where Lucifer went?”  
  
Annalise moved to take a seat on a garden bench and crossed her legs. She wasn’t surprised by his question. She’d figured out exactly the same thing about the agent, whilst he was torturing her.  
  
“How long did it take you to realise that agent was Lucifer’s mortal incarnation?”  
  
Jason chuckled. “Not long. But, I guess that’s the good thing about having Septimus for a guardian. He’s very in tune with things.”  
  
“The ginger cat.”  
  
“ _Oui_.”  
  
Annalise looked thoughtful a faraway expression in her eyes. “I’m not sure where he would’ve gone. Are we planning on telling anyone once we know?”  
  
Jason nodded. “My brother.”  
  
“You mean, you’re actually going to allow him to-?”  
  
“Yes. In fact, I’m glad he said what he did. I won’t have to persuade him to do what only he can do.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Only Pierre can destroy him...and send him back to his soul mind.”  
  
“I don’t understand...”  
  
“Don’t you know Annalise? The Apocalypse is upon us.” He pointed skywards. “Look up...the clouds have a distinctive red tinge, can you see?”  
  
Annalise lifted her eyes to the sky and a tingle raced up her spine. “Holy merciful God...”  
  
The clouds indeed had a blood red cast to them. She swallowed hard and glanced at the man next to her.  
  
“I’d best return to headquarters.” She took a deep breath. “If I pinpoint...my brother’s location...I’ll contact you straight away.”  
  
Jason smirked. “Tell Pierre first.”  
  
Annalise grinned back at him. “Will do.” She took a step back and saluted him. “Talk to you soon.”  
  
She vanished with a blink. Jason chuckled, shaking his head and turned to head back into the Consulate.


	13. Red Sky at Dawn

**_The Palace  
  
10:15 AM_**  
  
Gabriel ran down the corridor into the room where Chuck and Seb were starting to wake up. “Oncle Chuck! Oncle Chuck!” The little boy jumped on Chuck’s bed and shook his shoulder. “Wake up! Wake up!”  
  
The drummer groaned prising his eyelids open. “Huh? Gabe...? What is it?”  
  
Gabriel didn’t answer, instead he grabbed his hand and pulled him from the bed and over to the window, pointing. Chuck scowled blearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  
  
“What-?” The words fled from his lips as he stared out the window. There were dark clouds rolling across the sky. That in itself wasn’t unusual; it was the colour of them that caught the drummer’s attention. “Holy shit...”  
  
Seb stirred, “What, Chuck?”  
  
He lifted his head. Chuck waved to him to come over to the window. The younger man crawled out of bed and moved to stand on Gabriel’s other side.  
  
“Holy...they’re red...I’ve never seen...”  
  
“Neither...” Chuck shook his head and glanced down at Pierre’s nephew. “What do you think that is?”  
  
Gabriel actually giggled. “ _Tonton_  Pierre isn’t happy...”  
  
Seb scratched at his head, tousling his hair. “ _Pierre’s_ doing that?”  
  
His nephew nodded. “Kinda. Cool, hey?”  
  
“Cool?” Chuck snorted. “That’s scary. That is.”  
  
Gabriel scrambled up on the windowsill and continued to stare out the window. Chuck moved away and went to grab some clean clothes. Seb leaned against the windowsill still staring out at the clouds, frowning deeply, wondering what it all meant.  
  
The sound of yelling caught all three’s attentions and they swivelled their heads and leaned back to see Pierre and Pat stumbling down the hallway yelling for everyone to get up. Well, Pat was yelling; Pierre was leaning against him, head bowed, breathing hard.  
  
Chuck blinked rapidly. The singer looked awfully pale and exhausted as if he’d just run a marathon. His shirt was hanging open, sweat glistening on his bare chest.  
  
 _What the hell?_  Chuck moved to the doorway. “Oi? Where’ve you two been? And why the hell do you look like shit, Bouvier?”  
  
Pierre lifted his head and gazed wearily at the drummer. “I’ll explain...once everyone’s up and ready...just...need to clean up...”  
  
“Yeah, true that...you stink.”  
  
Pat who was supporting him, snorted. “Give it a rest, Comeau...he’s been through the fucking wringer.”  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “Can’t wait to hear about it. Go on, I’ll make sure everybody else is ready.” He glanced toward the window again.  
  
Pierre followed his gaze and smirked. “Looks like a storm’s coming...”  
  
Chuck rubbed at his face. “Gabriel said you had something to do with that...?”  
  
Pierre shrugged. “Maybe...” He glanced at Pat. “Baby...”  
  
Pat squeezed his arm gently. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He shot a look at their friend. “Meet us in Joscelin’s office...”  
  
The drummer nodded but then paused. “Should I bring Gabe?”  
  
Pierre lifted his head again. “Everyone needs to be there.” Then he groaned softly.  
  
Pat waved his hand at Chuck. “See you soon.”  
  
Chuck watched as the couple disappeared down the corridor.  
  
Shaking his head to clear it, he got dressed then looked at Seb. “Get dressed...I gotta go get the others up.”  
  
Sebastien nodded rubbing at his face. “Right...”  
  
Chuck exited the room to go rally the rest of the band.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **10:20 AM**_  
  
Pierre leaned against the shower wall, eyes closed. Pat stood behind him a loofah sponge clasped firmly in his right hand; his left arm was wrapped lightly around Pierre’s waist. He was gently massaging the soap-filled sponge down Pierre’s well muscled back, washing away the sweat and grime.  
  
“Fuck, Pat...I feel so fucking tired...” Pierre braced his folded arms against the cold tiles.  
  
His lover stroked his flat stomach absently as he continued to wash him. “You’ll be right...you want me to give you a boost?” Pat placed his lips against the nape of his neck.  
  
Pierre mumbled half-heartedly. “How...?”  
  
Pat dropped the sponge to the floor of the shower and drew the larger man under the hot jet of water. Steam rose around their naked forms; water poured down them, droplets clinging to their eyelashes, and hair.  
  
Keeping his arm snaked around Pierre’s waist, he nuzzled into his neck and stroked his other hand down his tattooed arm. Finding his way to Pierre’s wrist, he grasped it gently pressing his thumb against his pulse.  
  
“Close your eyes...”  
  
Pierre snorted. “They’re already closed.”  
  
“Keep them closed, okay babe?”  
  
“Okay...”  
  
Pat smiled gently, and then closed his own eyes concentrating on visualising both their auras. He had figured out that he was capable of focussing on his own aura a long time ago, before he met Pierre and Chuck and the others in the band.  
  
Keeping this knowledge a secret was easy. Back then, he didn’t think anyone would have believed him if he’d started talking about angels and auras. Even though as soon as he’d laid eyes on Pierre he’d known what he was. Known that Pierre was an angel incarnate. That was why he’d fallen in love with him.  
  
Of course, Pierre, fell in love with Pat for a completely different reason. But, in the grand scheme of the world...it was meant to be.  
  
Pat drew in a steady breath watching as his summer blue aura swirled and expanded outwards. Then he turned his attention to Pierre’s inner light. It was pulsing violently, dark shadows sleazing across the inner core. Black flashes of light darted across the golden-red interior. The silver thread that connected their auras was shaking desperately and was spread very thin along its length.  
  
Pat shivered and pulled Pierre closer, ignoring the stirring in his loins, then began to send a soft pulse wave down the slender thread, watching as it thickened, strengthened.  
  
Pierre gave a soft moan, body tensing. “That hurts...”  
  
Pat nuzzled against his neck softly. “It’ll be okay, babe...just relax...”  
  
He continued to feed the pulse along the slender thread. Soft blue light began to swirl inside Pierre’s golden aura, engulfing the black light and cleansing him from the inside out.  
  
Pat could feel the tension ease from Pierre’s body, felt the muscles relaxing and watched as the colour returned to his cheeks. He rubbed at his back gently.  
  
“Feel better?”  
  
Pierre opened his eyes slowly and took a step away from him, stretching his back, and then his arms.  
  
He grinned faintly. “Much...” He turned to face the other man and tilted his head, smiling crookedly. “Somebody’s getting excited.”  
  
Pat flushed slightly glancing down at himself. He was indeed hard. He’d been ignoring it but now he could feel desire coursing through his whole body.  
  
“Uh...there’s no time...”  
  
Pierre chuckled and grabbed Pat, pushing him back against the wall and leaning into him so his own dick rubbed against him. “Not even for a quickie...?” His breath was hot against the younger man’s ear.  
  
Pat trembled and clung onto Pierre’s biceps. “Pierre...” He gasped his name.  
  
Pierre licked slowly at the curve of Pat’s ear. “You want me...?”  
  
Pat groaned his length stiffening even more. “Fuck...too much...”  
  
Pierre growled low in the back of his throat and slowly slid down so he was kneeling on the hard floor. Gripping Pat’s hips he grinned up at him. Then he grasped Pat’s erection at the base and rubbed his nose along its smooth length.  
  
“Oh, god...” Pat whimpered.  
  
Pierre smirked and slowly flicked his tongue along the hard shaft, tasting him.  
  
Pat tensed grabbing involuntarily at his wrist. “Please...”  
  
Pierre smiled and without a word closed his lips around the head, sliding his tongue along the tiny slit at the tip.  
  
Pat gasped eyes rolling into the back of his head. “ _Holy shit_...”  
  
Pierre repeated the action, stroking his hand along the shaft as he began to suck on the head. Pat’s groans became louder, his breathing rate rapidly increasing. He bucked his hips a little. Pierre swallowed more of him, pressing his tongue firmly against the thick shaft.  
  
Wrapping his fingers firmly around the base of Pat’s cock, Pierre slowly took him all the way until the head was pressing against the back of his tongue. Then he began to hum. Pat grunted and thrust against the back of his throat. Pierre snarled and shifted closer, tilting his head back a little so he could watch his lover’s face.  
  
Pat’s eyes were squeezed shut, mouth hanging open, body trembling. Pierre growled around him and brought his other hand to rest between Pat’s legs sliding up his inner thigh and stopping at the spot just beneath his ball sac. He slid his thumb up and pressed at the sensitive skin, rubbing firmly.  
  
Pat whimpered and moved his hips slightly. Pierre growled and sucked more, swirling his tongue rapidly, building the pressure. And then he opened his throat taking him all the way, his gag reflex working slightly until he found a comfortable rhythm.  
  
Alternating between stroking his ball sac and swallowing his length Pierre began to increase the pressure waiting for the telltale sign that Pat was close.  
  
Pat groaned and grabbed onto the shower rail, a tingling at the base of his spine the signal that he was about to burst. “Fuck...Pierre...I’m gonna come...”  
  
Pierre growled, rumbling in his throat and swallowed him down all the way sucking harder, massaging his balls with the pad of his thumb.  
  
 _Come for me, baby..._  His voice inside Pat’s mind was enough. The younger man screamed and bucked his hips, releasing. Pierre pulled back tasting Pat’s come on his lips and watching as the rest spooled out into the water that was running into the drain.  
  
Pat collapsed back against the shower wall a satiated expression in his light hazel eyes.  
  
Breathing hard, Pierre propped back on his heels and smiled up at his lover. “Feel better?”  
  
Patrick laughed and pulled Pierre up to the same level, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him slowly on the mouth. “Mmmm...totally...”  
  
Pierre smiled against his lips. “We’d better finish up...gotta meet the others...”  
  
Pat murmured in response, “Wish we could just stay here forever...”  
  
“Yeah, that would be nice...but unfortunately we can’t. Even if all this shit wasn’t happening...we still have interviews and stuff for the band.”  
  
“Hah, since when were you the one who does all the organising?”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes, stepping away from Pat to turn the taps off. “Since you’re still dazed from me sucking you off.”  
  
“Humph...well next time it’s your turn.”  
  
Pierre winked as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel. “I’ll hold you to that, babe.”  
  
“You do that.”  
  
 _ **Joscelin’s Office  
  
10:55 AM**_  
  
“Right. Is everyone here?” Joscelin sat on his desk, arms folded, a deep frown creasing his brow.  
  
Annalise leaned next to him, looking at the floor. She’d only just arrived. Mickey sat several feet away, quietly waiting for whatever was going to happen.  
  
Pierre was pacing the perimeter of the room, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, chewing slowly on his bottom lip. His hair was still damp from his shower, but he looked and felt refreshed.  
  
Pat was watching him warily, unnerved by the tension that was radiating from the big man in almost visible waves. It had started as soon as they’d entered Joscelin’s large office. After all, before that Pierre had been glowing. But, now here in the office their lovemaking seemed like a thing of the distant past. And Pierre was obviously anxious.  
  
Chuck, who was sitting on the floor, glanced around him, taking in the rest of their group -- Jeff, David and Seb -- and answered the blonde man. “Yep. We’re all here.”  
  
“Great.” Joscelin slapped his hands together and flicked his long braid over his shoulder.  
  
Gabriel, who was sitting on a stool watching his uncle, looked over at Joscelin. “What are we doing?”  
  
The blonde warrior glanced at the little boy and smiled faintly. “We’re going to save the world, kiddo.”  
  
Gabriel giggled.  
  
Pierre shot a sharp look at Joscelin. “Gabe stays here.”  
  
“No. He has to come with us, Pierre. He has...the Rod.”  
  
Pierre blinked, stiffening. He tightened his circle around the room. “How do you know about that?”  
  
Joscelin rolled his eyes. “Everyone in the LAD knows about it.”  
  
Pierre rubbed at his face. “Right...okay then...”  
  
Chuck straightened, interrupting the two men. “Is someone going to explain what the hell happened this morning?”  
  
Pierre looked toward his best friend, and came to a halt in front of him. Jeff, David and Sebastien crowded behind Chuck and stared expectantly at the singer.  
  
“Well, Pierre?”  
  
He nodded toward Annalise. “We had to go get her.”  
  
Chuck opened his mouth; Pat came forward, cutting him off. “That agent...almost killed her. We had to get her out of there.”  
  
Jeff scowled, glancing toward the woman. “She doesn’t look like anything happened to her?”  
  
Pierre laughed wearily, raking his fingers through his hair. “I healed her.”  
  
“Shit...like Gabriel healed Chuck?”  
  
“Well, kinda...”  
  
Chuck frowned. “How do you mean, kinda?”  
  
Pierre hunched up his shoulders and spoke in earnest to the floor, unable to meet his friends’ curious stares. “I lost my temper. When we found where she was...the bastard...he...he’d skinned her alive...” He swallowed hard the bile rising to the back of his mouth. “Fuck...there was so much blood...and I just lost it...I...I don’t even remember healing her. It just happened.”  
  
Annalise spoke up then. “It’s very rare for something like that to happen...but...I’ve seen it before. Only once though...” She smirked faintly. “And, not in this lifetime.”  
  
They all looked at her.  
  
Pierre raised his eyebrows. “Another incarnation?”  
  
“Yeah, mine and yours.”  
  
Pierre blinked. “Mine?”  
  
“Yah. It was you by the way...and well for a similar reason...I mean, not that I was in danger or anything. You just got mad.”  
  
“Jesus...”  
  
“Has nothing to do with,” Mickey said with a snort.  
  
“Thanks for clarifying that.” Pierre rolled his eyes. Then he turned his gaze back to Annalise’s. “Who was I?”  
  
“Oh, some...French Canadian soldier in the army.”  
  
“He was a commander,” Pat volunteered.  
  
The rest of the guys swivelled their heads to look at the merch guy.  
  
“And you know that, how, Patrick?” David looked utterly confused.  
  
Pat just laughed.  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes again. “Looks like Pattycake knows more than even I knew. Maybe you could share all your secrets with us, Langlois.” His voice had become tense.  
  
Pat shook his head. “You already know. It’s locked in that thick skull of yours, babe.”  
  
“ _Thick_! What the fuck does that mean?” Pierre’s voice increased in volume. White lines of tension appeared on either side of his nose. “What the hell-”  
  
Patrick grabbed his shoulders and squeezed them firmly. “Pierre...cool it...”  
  
He could see the bigger man’s aura swirling dangerously within. Pierre growled but submitted to his boyfriend’s touch, allowing his chin to drop against his chest, relaxing.  
  
Joscelin who had remained silent throughout the exchange decided to get everyone’s attention then. “Okay...now that everyone’s more in the loop...” He ignored the muttered protests to the contrary of the guys and ploughed on. “I think we need to get down to business. You guys need to get to your scheduled interviews and such by noon, right? So we’re going to have to make this as quick as possible.”  
  
Pat pulled Pierre close, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, supporting him. The rest turned to look at the blonde commander, waiting to hear what the plan was.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **The Eiffel Tower  
  
11 AM**_  
  
Agent 78 stood with his head tilted back, gazing up at the massive tower before him. Somehow he found that just staring up at this magnificent structure had a calming effect on him. And he needed it. The aftershocks of Pierre’s rage had been so totally overwhelming that he had felt it even though he had long left the warehouse. He could feel it right at the core of his being.  
  
He had no idea how he could feel it even though he had not been physically present. There was definitely something about the singer that he had missed entirely when he’d been researching him. Something he had not reckoned with.  
  
Pacing along the edge of the pavement ignoring the throngs of tourists who were converging on Paris’ number one icon, the agent thought hard. If Pierre was capable of such feats then there were only two possible explanations.  
  
He was either not human, or he was the human incarnation of one of the Angels of Heaven. The first was highly unlikely, the second: the second possibility was mindboggling and if that were indeed the case then the CSS was screwed.  
  
78 paused to stretch his neck muscles when he noticed a convoy of cars moving passed on the street. He squinted when he recognised the Canadian flag on the front bonnet of the second car.  
  
 _The Prime Minister…? No…Acting Prime Minister. What is he doing in France?_  
  
He straightened and strolled along the pavement watching as the convoy turned a corner and made its way toward the Old Palace. The agent had not figured out what the ancient building was used for, probably parliamentary meetings. Truthfully he had more important issues on his mind.  
  
Still at least he’d gotten one thing right. There was no way his sister could have survived what he had done to her. So, now that she was out of the picture he could concentrate on the child. A change of plans was necessary and since the band would be staying in Paris for a few days he had time to gather his men, regroup and set a new plan in action.  
  
Of course he was mindful of the storm brewing overhead, he’d been keeping an eye on international weather bulletins and almost every news station had announced a strange cloud cover. The red tinge to the sky was worrying all meteorology bureaus’. He heard scientists say that they had never seen anything like it before.  
  
Agent 78 smirked. Of course they hadn’t; after all, it was a supernatural phenomenon. He knew that much. He didn’t know what was causing it though, that was not his forte. That was more along the line of what the  _L’Angelic_  Division did, but unfortunately he was not party to their knowledge.  
  
He glanced upwards past the phallic symbology of the Eiffel tower to the sky above. The red light had dimmed slightly, but still edged the fluffy white clouds that usually graced Parisian skies. He rubbed at his face and sighed deeply. If only his job was more simple.  
  
That was how he’d envisaged it when he’d started. He’d thought it would have been simple just to kill the guardian, get the boy and get the hell out before trouble broke out, but then he hadn’t taken into account the fact that the band would be travelling and even though he’d managed to work that one out, he hadn’t bargained on Pierre being such a tough target.  
  
The challenge was exciting though. And maybe one day he’d come head-to-head with the singer, find out what he was really about.  
  
 _Yes…that sounds good…but first…the boy…_  
  
The agent pulled out his cell phone and dialled CSS Headquarters. Before he did anything else he had to report to The Captain. Make sure he was kept in the loop, and then he could get back to work.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **The Palace  
  
11:25 AM**_  
  
The guys were about to leave for their first interview, Annalise and Joscelin to search for the CSS agent when they all heard the sound of a car horn blaring out the front. Pierre frowned and raced to one of the large windows that looked out over the front courtyard. The others joined him peering down.  
  
Gabriel scrambled up on the windowsill and squinted then he jumped down and dashed for the door. “It’s  _Tonton_  Jay!”  
  
Pierre groaned. “Fuck. What is he doing here? I told him he didn’t need to check up on me every single fucking second…”  
  
Annalise raised her eyebrows. “Maybe…maybe he’s not here to see you, Pierre.”  
  
“Who else would he be here to see, Anna?” Pat asked sharply.  
  
“Somebody else.”  
  
“Oh, great answer Einstein. Who?”  
  
Joscelin rolled his eyes. “Didn’t Pierre say that his brother kept calling Anna’s phone?”  
  
Pat scowled. “Right, I remember that. So, he’s here to see you then?”  
  
Annalise shrugged. “Don’t know. We’ll have to see, eh?”  
  
“I’m still majorly confused!” David announced out of the blue, loud enough for his voice to echo in the whole front entrance.  
  
Pierre turned to look back at him raising his eyebrows. Pat blinked at the slight bassist surprised at his sudden outburst.  
  
Joscelin sighed. “You have to get to your interviews...”  
  
David practically stormed up and yelled in the blonde’s face. “I’m not going outside until I know it’s safe!”  
  
“What the hell? Don’t be stupid,” Pierre grumbled. “I’m here.”  
  
David turned on him, frustration evident on his face. “Oh, sure. And what are you going to do, Pierre?”  
  
“Yeah. Actually, we’d all like to know that.” Jeff said in his usual quiet manner. Sebastien nodded in agreement as the bald guitarist went on. “We’ve kept pretty quiet about all this because it hasn’t directly affected us...even after Chuck got shot at.”  
  
Chuck added sharply, “Yeah, but we want a better explanation.”  
  
Pierre groaned and looked back toward the front entrance way. The doors had swung open and Jason was heading across the front lawn towards them.  
  
“I...I’m in no position to tell you...because I don’t understand well enough.”  
  
“Well then, maybe Annalise and Joscelin can.” Jeff looked pointedly at the two LAD agents.  
  
Annalise shook her head wearily. “Look, we’re just going to be repeating stuff you’ve already been told...only Pierre and Pat can tell you what is really going on...and only when they work it out for themselves.”  
  
“That doesn’t make sense, Pierre just said he didn’t understand.”  
  
“He will, in time.”  
  
“Well, that doesn’t help us now, does it.”  
  
“No. I’m afraid not.”  
  
Pierre cut in, roughly, “You keep saying I’ll figure it out, but it hasn’t happened yet.”  
  
Annalise squeezed her eyes shut. “I think...” She paused and looked toward Jason who was now standing in the doorway. “I think you should talk to your brother.”  
  
“What does  _he_  know?” Pierre’s frustration was beginning to show.  
  
The woman held up her hands to placate the big man. “I’m not sure, but he’s in the Canadian defence force...I’m sure he knows things that none of us do.”  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened, the white lines of tension reappearing on either side of his nostrils. “Yeah, but about this?”  
  
Jason joined them then, Gabriel trotting along at his side. “I know everything.”  
  
“Oohh, cue the twilight zone music...” David snorted.  
  
The elder Bouvier glanced at the bassist and grinned. “That would be fitting, David.”  
  
“Don’t encourage him,” Chuck actually laughed.  
  
Jason just smiled then turned back to his brother. “Pierre. Don’t get worked up...I owe you a proper explanation. All of you. But, you all need to get to your interview...so Jamieson is offering to take you guys in his convoy. So, we should leave now.”  
  
“You’re right...” Pierre sighed heavily. But then he got right up into his brother’s face, eyes narrowed, hard, cold. “But, you  _are_  going to tell us  _everything_  when we’re done.”  
  
“Don’t worry. That’s why I’m here.” Jason waved his hand at his younger brother, unfazed by his tone. “Go on. Go. You don’t want to be late.”  
  
Pierre took a step back then moved passed his elder brother and strode down the lawn. Gabriel glanced once at his older uncle then took off after Pierre.  
  
Jason stared after him then glanced at Pat who was about to follow him. “Has...he said anything about Jon or Angela lately?”  
  
Pat breathed out hard, nostrils flaring faintly. “No. Not a word. Not since...it happened.”  
  
Jason frowned. “That’s not good. He needs to come to terms with what happened...”  
  
“You think I don’t know that, Jay? It’s eating him from the inside but I daren’t say anything.”  
  
“Don’t want him to blow up at you, eh?”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “It’s like to happen.”  
  
“Ah, well...maybe I should?”  
  
“Should what?”  
  
“Talk to him.”  
  
Pat shrugged. “Maybe.” He smeared a hand over his face. “But then again, maybe not. Perhaps it would be best to leave well alone. At least for now...?”  
  
Jason nodded. “Well, it’s your call.”  
  
“I’m glad you realise that.” Pat couldn’t help but be a little sarcastic.  
  
Pierre’s brother wasn’t bothered though. He just smiled and headed back to the convoy of government cars.  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _ **OUI FM  
  
1 PM**_  
  
“ _Au revoir, Paris...Merci_...go buy our new album!” Pierre removed his headphones and placed them on the table in front of him.  
  
David spun around on the chair he was sitting on still chatting to the radio host in his native language, laughing at the slight differences between the Parisian French and Quebecois.  
  
“He’s easily amused, isn’t he?” Mickey, who was slouching against the wall behind Pierre’s chair, commented wryly.  
  
The singer glanced back over his shoulder and smirked. “Yeah, but that’s David for you. Always amused at something.”  
  
Chuck who was sitting on Pierre’s right tilted his head back and added, “He’s the clown...always making jokes.”  
  
“That aren’t even funny,” Pierre retorted.  
  
“Light relief.” Mickey chuckled.  
  
“Indeed.” Chuck shook his head. “Some would say he’s never serious. But he can be.”  
  
David heard the drummer and swivelled on his chair to face them. The host laughed and stood to go and speak with the French label representative, leaving the band members to talk amongst themselves.  
  
“That is so true.” David slapped a palm down on his knee. “Particularly these last few days. It’s been pretty serious.”  
  
Pierre dragged his fingers over his face. “Crap...could we not talk about it?”  
  
David tilted his head. “Okay. But you said-”  
  
“I said shit, Desrosiers. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just...I just want everything to be normal again...okay? Please...give me that now at least...” He halted abruptly a lump forming in his throat. Leaning forward on his chair, he rubbed one hand over his face. “ _Merde_...I wish I could go back to the start of this year...” He trembled and leaned his face in his hands. “Fuck...fuck... _Jon_...fuck...”  
  
David frowned. Chuck shifted on his chair.  
  
Mickey straightened, pushing away from the wall.  _Pierre?  
  
Fuck, Michael...I never even got to say goodbye...he’s gone...those fucking bastards killed him...and don’t tell me I’ll see him again because that’s not going to help me now, is it?_ Pierre chanced a quick look at the redhead.  
  
 _I wasn’t going to, Pierre. Still...I’m sure Aniel would accommodate you.  
  
Hah...if I could request what happens in those ‘dreams’...it’d be to see him...so I can tell him what I think of him dieing on me._  
  
Michael chuckled silently.  _I’m sure you’d give as good as it gets..._  
  
Pierre hunched his shoulders.  
  
David tilted his head, looking a little confused. “You okay, man?”  
  
“I will be...” Pierre straightened something in his demeanour changing. Steeling his resolve. “All I have to do is make them pay.”  
  
“What?” Chuck blinked.  
  
Pierre snorted. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”  
  
“Uh. Yeah.” The drummer folded his arms and raised both his eyebrows. “You can’t do anything. Maybe we should call the cops, or something...I mean...we’re way out of our league.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “ _You_  might be. But, I’m not.” He pushed up off his chair. “I’m going to go outside and call Anna...”  
  
Mickey pushed away from the wall. “I’ll come with...”  
  
The singer nodded to him and headed outside onto a small balcony directly outside the studio. Leaning on the rail and gazing over the city, he pulled out his cell phone and dialled Annalise’s number.  
  
It rang several times, then he frowned slightly when she answered.  _“Pierre, I was just about to call.”_  
  
Pierre gripped the railing hard, watching as his knuckles went white. “Yah?”  
  
 _“Joscelin located my brother.”_  
  
His throat tightened. “Where?” he managed to croak out.  
  
 _“You’re going to hate that you didn’t think of this...”_  
  
Pierre snarled in response, “Just tell me.”  
  
 _“He’s staying at the same hotel as us...”_  
  
“Fuck! Fuck...right under our fucking noses...”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Pierre rocked on the balls of his shoes. “Where are you?”  
  
 _“Back at the hotel...”_  
  
“Right. Stay there. I’m on my way.” Before Annalise could reply, Pierre flipped his phone shut and spun around to face Mickey. “Michael. I’m going back to the hotel. Go back in there and tell Pat to meet me at our room. ASAP.”  
  
Asking no questions Mickey turned and went back inside. Glancing back over his shoulder, he smirked faintly as Pierre blinked once and vanished.


	14. Calm as the sea

_**The Royal Hotel  
  
1:25 PM**_  
  
Pat rubbed at his face and laughed at Mickey who looked slightly bewildered. “Y’know, I just realised. We never even _stayed_  here last night but they still have our rooms waiting for us.”  
  
The red head rolled his eyes. “But, obviously Annalise remembered that we were  _supposed_  to be staying here.”  
  
“So, that’s why she said ‘the same hotel as us’ and that she was ‘back at the hotel’.”  
  
Mickey smirked. “She probably meant to say the hotel we were booked into...” He scratched his jaw. “But, then again...we weren’t expecting any of this to happen were we? I mean...what with the agent taking her from the airport, and everything else.”  
  
“Heh too right. Anyways, where in hell have they got to?” Pat paced across the foyer and scanned the area with a scowl set on his face. “Pierre did say to meet here, right?”  
  
“Well, he said he was coming here. He obviously didn’t realise Anna’s mistake either.”  
  
“Not that it was actually a mistake. She didn’t know we went to the Palace, I’m guessing. Not until after the fact.”  
  
“You’re right about that, but I kinda figured she meant here...just after I left the station.” Pierre appeared right by Pat’s left shoulder.  
  
The other man almost jumped right out of his skin. “Fuck, Pierre...you scared the livin’ shit outta me!”  
  
The singer chuckled. “Sorry about that. We gotta go up to the fifth floor. Anna and Jos are waiting for us in one of our booked rooms.” He raked tense fingers through his hair messing it up. “Nice room by the way...”  
  
Pat sniffed. “Maybe we should stay here for the rest of the week.”  
  
“If we get through the next few hours.” Pierre’s tone was grim. Pat looked at him and felt a chill. His lover’s eyes were dark and it had nothing to do with the colour.  
  
Pat watched as a shadow passed across the bigger man’s face. “P...”  
  
Pierre shook his head, grabbing Pat’s hand and squeezing it. “Where’re the others?”  
  
“Still back at the studio. Fuck...we keep telling them we’ll explain all this...but we keep not...”  
  
“I know.” He glanced at Mickey. “Michael?”  
  
“Your brother is still with them...I suggested he keep them up to speed. Since he obviously knows more than any of us.” The red head stretched. “Oh, and your nephew...he’s coming back here too.”  
  
“What?” Pierre stiffened. “No. He has to stay with the guys, he’ll be safer.”  
  
“No...don’t you remember what Joscelin said. We need him with us.”  
  
Pierre shook his head in anger. “He’s just a child!”  
  
“Yes. I know. We all know that. But...he’s...ugh...” Mickey shook his head. “Let’s just go up there and see what’s needed...no point in worrying.”  
  
Pierre gave a curt nod, tightening his grip on Pat’s hand. Pat frowned but said nothing as his boyfriend led them toward the elevator bay. He guessed that Pierre didn’t want to draw attention to them by vanishing in the middle of the foyer.  
  
 _ **CSS HQ  
  
Same Time**_  
  
The Captain smiled icily and stood to walk over to his whiteboard. Taking a red marker pen, he drew a large cross over his daughter’s name. “One down.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw and let his gaze fall on the photo of Pierre Bouvier. Then he moved to the photo of the boy. “Soon,” he murmured, “we’ll have you soon...”  
  
The Captain heaved a sigh, went back to his desk, and stared down at the document. Results were what he wanted, and results were what he was getting.  
  
All the reports he had received from Agent 78 had been nothing but positive. Of course, there had been a couple of minor hiccups; however, they appeared to have been ironed out.  
  
His best agent was on schedule with their mission. And the Captain could already see the accolades he would receive for preventing an international disaster.  
  
“‘The President of the United States thanks you for ensuring the lives of his people are protected...’ ‘The Prime Ministers of Canada and Australia...thank you for...’ ‘Her Majesty the Queen of England Knight’s you for...’”  
  
He grinned and collapsed on his chair and swivelled around smiling at the portrait of the Queen of England on his back wall. “That’s right, Queenie...that’s what I deserve...and then...then I’m going to retire and live happily ever after...”  
  
The Captain leaned back on his chair, closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh. Now all he had to do was wait.  
  
 _ **Paris  
  
The Royal Hotel  
  
1:40 PM**_  
  
Annalise sat on a chair with her chin resting against the back. Joscelin slowly paced near the window, jaw set, white lines etched on either side of his nostrils.  
  
The door to the hotel room inched open and Pierre poked his head around the frame. “Hey...we’re here...”  
  
Annalise looked up and smiled tightly. “Took your time.”  
  
“Sorry.” Pierre entered, Pat and Mickey slipped in behind him, the latter locking the door as he shut it. “Had to wait for Pat and Michael to catch up with me.” The singer folded his arms and looked pointedly at Joscelin. “So, where is he?”  
  
The blonde stopped pacing and met Pierre’s hard stare. “He’s in a room, several floors above us.”  
  
“Directly above us,” Annalise added quietly. “He apparently booked in here the same day we arrived in Paris.”  
  
Pierre frowned. “After he’d taken you?”  
  
“Yes. Hotel clerk told Joscelin that he hadn’t been in his room for most of the time since he checked in, but he is there right now.”  
  
Pat flopped on his back on the bed, bouncing a little. “Comfy...” He looked toward Joscelin. “The perks of being in the French Army...you can ask questions about guests in a hotel...and say you’re on a government mission.”  
  
The blonde chuckled. “True that. That is the reason I gave.”  
  
“Clever.”  
  
“No, common sense,” Pierre commented. Then he looked at Annalise. “I know I already asked you this...but I want to know would you destroy him if you had too?”  
  
“Of course. He harmed me...he would’ve harmed you. That’s not on. He won’t get away with it.”  
  
“He’s your brother, though.” Pierre watched her eyes.  
  
They were blazing. “Only through sheer biology. I do not care for a murderer as a brother.”  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
The singer smiled at her. Then he looked back at Joscelin. “Michael says Gabe’s going to be here, but...um...how is he getting here, because the guys aren’t going to-” Before Pierre could finish his question, there was a soft ‘pop’ and Gabriel was sitting on the bed next to Pat a little grin on his face.  
  
“Hell...” Pierre blinked.  
  
Gabriel giggled. “Hi,  _Tonton_  Pierre.” He gave a little wave.  
  
The singer walked over to sit on the edge of the bed on Pat’s other side. “Uh...why are you here?”  
  
His nephew pulled the pin from his back pocket. “I got this.”  
  
“Right...what exactly...?” Pierre raised his eyebrows unsure how to finish the question.  
  
“You’ll see, Pierre,” Joscelin answered with a soft smirk. He moved away from the window and came to crouch in front of the boy, resting his hands on the bed in front of him. “Kid. Look at me.”  
  
Gabriel met the man’s bright eyes, tilting his head to one side.  
  
Joscelin took a deep breath. “Your uncle is worried. Maybe...maybe it’s time he saw the truth.”  
  
The little boy swallowed hard, but nodded emphatically. Pierre stiffened; Pat grabbed his hand, squeezing it firmly.  
  
Then he glowered at the blonde. “The truth?”  
  
Joscelin sighed. “Jonathan knew. But...he’s...”  
  
“Dead.” Pierre’s voice shook. Pat pulled him close and whispered in his ear. The bigger man shuddered and leaned into him. “But...Gabe said that he didn’t...”  
  
Gabriel turned to peer at his uncle. “I did. But. It wasn’t true.”  
  
Pierre trembled. “You’re a kid. You’re not supposed to know how to lie.”  
  
The boy scowled. “I’m eight,  _Tonton_  Pierre. I’m not a baby.”  
  
Pat chuckled. “That’s true. You’re not.” He touched Pierre’s face lightly. “He isn’t.”  
  
“Exactly.” Joscelin attempted to reassure the singer.  
  
Pierre met his gaze furiously. “I don’t want him getting caught up in this. If you haven’t forgotten, they’re after him.”  
  
Joscelin laughed harshly. “The CSS agents won’t even recognise him.”  
  
“What the fuck do you mean?”  
  
The blonde LAD agent sighed and turned to the boy once more. “Show him, Gabriel.”  
  
Gabe nodded and stood up on the bed, holding the pin out in his right hand and closing his eyes. Pat and Pierre both frowned. The silver pin began to glow, but this time the light began to expand and envelope the little boy.  
  
The men’s eyes widened as the light became so unbearably bright that they had to shield their faces. Annalise hid her face against her arms; Joscelin pressed both his hands over his face, peering between his fingers.  
  
Mickey was the only one who didn’t need to protect his gaze. His inner core glowed brighter as he watched Gabriel. The light shivered and then it began to dissipate but only slightly, to a more bearable level.  
  
Pierre lifted his face from Pat’s shoulder and blinked rapidly, rubbing at his eyes. “Fuck...where the hell...?”  
  
 _I’m right here, Pierre..._  Hovering cross-legged above the bed was a young man in a white gown, with short white hair, bright blue eyes shining in gentle amusement.  
  
Pierre pressed his hand to his throat, gulping back a cry of shock. “You...you can’t be...how can...”  
  
 _I am the Archangel Gabriel. But, you already kind of knew that._  
  
“Well, I knew you would be...one day...but...this...?”  
  
The Archangel smiled.  _I know this must be a bit hard to take. But...it was necessary for me to...maintain a disguise. Jon was a little shocked when I came to him eight years ago...but...he was happy to oblige...your sister-in-law was unable to conceive naturally. So, I...was born into their lives. This is all part of Raphael’s - your - original plan._  
  
Pierre groaned and shook his head still trying to come to terms with what was happening in front of him. He glanced sideways at his lover. Pat rubbed his face wearily, shaking his head at Pierre. Even though he’d always known the truth about himself and Pierre, he was surprised about this development.  
  
In the depth of his subconscious, he had a suspicion that he did know about the whole plan, but his mortal incarnation was consciously ignorant. “You’re  _the_  Angel Gabriel? The one who came to Mary and told her she would give birth to Christ Jesus?”  
  
Gabriel nodded slowly.  _Yes. But that is part of the larger picture. However, right now that is not the focus of our attention. Lucifer has apparently lost control of his split incarnation...and Pierre needs to send him back to the Heavens._  
  
“My brother,” Annalise whispered.  
  
The Archangel looked at her. He held the rod in his hands now and turned it slowly, eyes narrowed.  _Only earthly speaking..._  
  
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s my father immortally speaking.”  
  
Gabriel frowned then glanced at Mickey and then Joscelin.  _She’s one of us?_  
  
Joscelin nodded. “As I am Cassiel...she is a split angel incarnation of...” He cut himself short realising that was something he hadn’t ever told anyone.  
  
“What?” Annalise stared hard at him.  
  
He shook his head. “Don’t, Annalise...it’s not important.”  
  
Pierre, who had been silent, said quietly, “ _Oui_. What’s the plan?”  
  
Pat straightened, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt, waiting. Joscelin breathed out harshly.  
  
Gabriel spun the rod deftly, eyes glittering.  _Where’s Lucifer?_  
  
Pierre and Pat swivelled their heads to stare at Joscelin.  
  
The blonde smeared his hands over his face before answering, voice tight. “Three floors up.”  
  
 _Right. Then we need to get him out of the room and up to the roof._  
  
Pierre swung his head back round to the angel who had formerly been his eight year old nephew. “The roof?”  
  
Gabriel nodded, his aura burning bright.  _Oui. The roof_. He blinked roughly.  _Think you can manage?_  
  
The singer hesitated. Pat answered for him, picking up on the rage that was beginning to flower deep inside his lover. All the emotions Pierre had bottled inside him since his brother’s murder was pushing at the boundaries of his control.  
  
“Yeah, we can.”  
  
 _Good. See you there...yesterday._  With that, the Archangel vanished. Mickey grabbed Annalise’s wrist and vanished after Gabriel.  
  
Joscelin shook his head and looked at Pierre and Pat, making for the door. “Let’s go.”  
  
 _ **1:45 PM**_  
  
The rest of the band were making their way to the hotel; Pat had told them which one it was before he and Mickey had vanished right in front of their shocked friends. Jeff leaned out the window of the bus they were travelling in and stared up at the sky.  
  
“Holy Hell...look at the clouds...” He pointed; the others craned their necks to see. The reddish glow had deepened and almost all the clouds had a deep burnished tinge to the edges.  
  
David pressed his hands over his face, shaking his head. “No...no...make it go away...”  
  
Chuck frowned and leaned over to squeeze the bassist’s slim shoulders. “It’ll be okay, David...it...”  
  
“No!” David actually wailed. “Something awful is going to happen!”  
  
Seb rubbed at his face and just slunk down on his seat, next to the bassist, not even wanting to think about what was going on.  
  
Jason who was sitting in the front passenger seat, turned to look at the four men in the back of the cab. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything about this...”  
  
The Lt-Colonel had just spent the last half hour explaining what exactly was going on; down to the ancient prophesy that had been the fuel to the fire.  
  
Chuck shook his head vehemently. “No, you were right to tell us, Jay. Better, we have some idea. David freaks out at anything that he doesn’t understand. But, he’ll be okay...”  
  
“No, I won’t!” David was simmering. He folded his arms tight across his chest and glared at the elder Bouvier. “You have no idea how shitty it is to be kept in the dark...I mean, what the fuck is going on, Jay? Like, really...what is going on. I mean...less than a year ago, if someone had said that the world was going to end tomorrow I would’ve told them they were mad. Now...I’m not so sure.” He stabbed a finger out the window at the sky. “Those clouds look...wrong! Just wrong...like maybe aliens are going to come and blow us up.”  
  
Jason snorted. “Aliens don’t exist.”  
  
The bassist retorted, “Angels don’t exist.”  
  
“Pierre exists.” Jason’s response was enough to make David stop and think.  
  
He finally said, in a defeated tone, “True that.” He flopped back against the seat. “Still, this is all very annoying...”  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “Typical, you would call it annoying.”  
  
“Well, it is.”  
  
“Your complaining is annoying,” Jeff muttered.  
  
David glared at the guitarist. “You can’t tell me that this doesn’t piss you off, not knowing what the hell is going on.”  
  
Jeff sighed. “You got me there, David.”  
  
“Exactly. So don’t tell me I’m annoying.”  
  
“But you’re always annoying.”  
  
“I am not!”  
  
“You are.”  
  
“No. I’m not.”  
  
“Yes, you are,” a tiny smirk flitted over Jeff’s face.  
  
David pouted. “Am not.”  
  
“Are too.”  
  
“Not.”  
  
“Too.”  
“Not!”  
  
“Too!”  
  
“I am not!” David was yelling now as he flipped the guitarist off. Jeff, unable to keep a straight face any longer, cracked up, clutching at his stomach he was laughing so hard.  
  
Chuck plugged his ears and snapped at the younger man. “Would you just shut up already? Nobody cares if you’re annoying or not.”  
  
“I care.” Jeff chuckled.  
  
David opened his mouth, but Seb grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back on his seat, shaking his head. “Just be quiet...this is hard on all of us.”  
  
David sighed and relented. “I know...damn it, Seb. I just wish people wouldn’t treat us like we’re stupid or something...”  
  
Jason sighed. “Pierre’s just trying to protect you.”  
  
“Well, that’s real noble of him and all...but it would be nice to know more than just the bare minimum. It’s not like we’re little kids or something. We’re grown men, Jay.”  
  
The Lt-Col nodded in agreement. “That is true. Even though you can be immature...you still are serious when you need to be, right?”  
  
“Exactly. So, I think we deserve to be treated accordingly.”  
  
“Fair enough. Well, after all this is sorted...you can give Pierre a nice serve...but, just wait until everything’s back to how it should be.” Jason trailed off as the vehicle came to a sudden halt. He scowled and leaned forward. “What the fuck?”  
  
Jeff, still leaning out the window, pulled his head back. “Damn there are people everywhere...where the hell did they come from?”  
  
Outside the taxi van, a massive crowd had assembled on the sidewalk, spilling out onto the street, blocking the flow of traffic. The cab had to stop about a hundred metres away from the entrance to the hotel the band was supposed to have been staying at.  
  
The four remaining members of the band opened the other windows and peered out. They noticed that everyone seemed to be looking up, so they followed the gaze of the crowd.  
  
Chuck swore harshly. “ _Tabernack_...look at that...”  
  
All the way up in the sky, a large reddish-black tornado had formed the end hitting the top of the building and rotating in one single position. It seemed to be growing larger by the second and was sucking in the clouds around it. It was glowing brightly, a bloody beacon for all to see. However, it wasn’t causing any apparent damage.  
  
Jason squinted and then uttered softly so only the men in the cab could hear his words. “It’s spinning up and out...someone’s causing that from the roof...”  
  
“But that’s not possible...” Chuck blinked. “No one could do that...and it’s not physically possible...”  
  
David tilted his head and said the wisest thing he’d said in a long while. “An angel could, right?”  
  
Jason gave a grim smile. “Indeed. A particularly powerful angel.”  
  
“Like?”  
  
“Like the Fallen Angel...Raphael.”  
  
Jeff cleared his throat nervously. “Pierre?”  
  
His older brother nodded. “ _Oui._ ”  
  
“Shit...no way...”  
  
Chuck smeared his hand over his face. “That’s never Pierre...”  
  
Jason smirked sourly. “I know it’s hard to believe...but...the colours are a dead give-away...red and black...”  
  
David groaned. “That makes it sound simple...”  
  
“No, none of this is simple...”  
  
The five men and the taxi driver stared up at the roof of the hotel, all of them pondering what was going on up there.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pierre stood in the centre of the roof space; eyes closed tightly, arms down by his sides, but held out slightly. He held his hands palms facing skywards, fingers splayed out. A shiver of power raced through his body. With his eyes closed, he could see the intense sparkling light of the auras of those who stood with him.  
  
Gabriel floated above the ground several feet to his right, his own arms spread on either side of his body, white sparks flickering at his fingertips, the rod clutched firmly in his left hand, the tip glowing violently.  
  
Pat stood to Pierre’s left, blue aura burning with a rage that could be felt by every person on the roof. Michael stood on Pat’s left head tilted an amused light in his green eyes, red hair looking more like flames than ever.  
  
Joscelin -- as Cassiel -- crouched low, his silver aura sparkling with menace, blue eyes shining. And, Annalise stood, trembling, long blonde hair streaming over her shoulders, purple eyes ablaze with a fury that burned deep in the core of her being.  
  
All their rage, including Pierre’s that was emanating from him such that a spiral of power was rising up into the sky, was being directed toward the man that was standing in front of them.  
  
Short silver hair, bright black eyes staring malevolently at the six in front of him, Lucifer’s mortal incarnation growled low in his throat. “So, it’s come to this has it?”  
  
Pierre trembled and spoke, keeping his eyes closed. “You do not know this, but you are the Devil...Satan...and we are your spawn...”  
  
The agent blinked rapidly, swinging his head around, his gaze falling on Annalise. “You! You’re alive?”  
  
Annalise sneered, “Yes. You surprised, you fucking bastard?”  
  
He swallowed hard, clenching his fists. “You think you can prevent what needs to be done.” He pointed a finger at Pierre. “Your nephew will cause the end of this world so he needs to be destroyed.”  
  
Pierre’s eyes snapped open; they were black, bottomless pits. The spiralling funnel of reddish-black light intensified as it shot up into the sky and spiralled outwards; a visible sign of his anger.  
  
“No. An angel will bring the world to an end...but not how you think...not how the CSS thought. It...the prophesy...” He paused, frowning.  
  
Before confronting the agent in his room, Pat had finally explained the full prophesy to his boyfriend. Gabriel had unlocked the knowledge within the younger man’s soul-mind. He had also unlocked Pierre’s full potential, releasing him from his mortal ignorance.  
  
Agent 78 took several steps back, his eyes widening, a hint of fear flashing across his face.  
  
Pierre saw the fear and zeroed in on it. “The prophecy was misinterpreted. The one you are searching for is not who you think. It is no child you are looking for...but a man.” His eyes glittered as he took several steps toward the agent.  
  
The other man actually trembled. “What...what do you mean?” Uncertainty crept into the agent’s voice.  
  
Pierre snarled. “The CSS’s calculations were off 20 years...I was 8 years old then. I’m not now, obviously.”  
  
Agent 78 blinked rapidly. “What?” He glanced at the others then back to Pierre, keeping one eye on the steadily pulsing spiral that was heading into the heavens.  
  
Pierre held out both his arms, an icy smile spreading across his lips. “I am the Fallen Angel, Raphael, Son of Lucifer...Bringer of Omens, Justice and Peace...” He licked his lips before adding, “And, I am the one you want. But.” He brought his palms together in front of him, then slowly drew them apart a bolt of black lightning forming between his hands.  
  
“But,” Pierre repeated quietly, “I am supposed to send you back to where you came from...”  
  
The agent shook his head hard, “No. I don’t understand. Send me back where?”  
  
Pierre took a deep breath before answering. “If I allow you to do your job the world will end catastrophically, it is my responsibility to ensure that does not happen.”  
  
“No!” Agent 78’s voice was strained, tight. “The Captain said that if the child is allowed to live...”  
  
Pierre cut him off roughly. “Gabriel is no child.” He jerked his chin toward the angel who was beginning to glow.  
  
The agent followed his gaze and sucked in his breath. “No...you’re not...”  
  
Gabriel brought his own hands together, tilting the rod so the tip was pointed at the agent. “I am the Archangel Gabriel...and by the name of the Almighty, I bear witness to this. You ask where it is you came from. Well, you...and for that matter, all of us originated from the Heaven’s above. You are the mortal incarnation of the Fallen Angel Lucifer and Raphael has been charged with returning you to Lucifer’s control.”  
  
The atmosphere seemed to tighten around them as the tension increased. A whistling sound whipped around them as Pierre’s spiral of power began to increase in size. The agent stared up at it then looked at the five men and the single woman and then a thought dawned on him. He drew back from them and held up his own arms.  
  
“So...that’s why I can do this...” He laughed suddenly, blinked once and vanished.  
  
“ _Putain de merde_!!!” Joscelin swore savagely.  
  
“ _Tabernack_!” Pierre snarled hurling the bolt of lightning at the spot the agent had been standing.  
  
The funnel of black and red lights flashed and then blew away as a giant gust of wind blew across the roof. The others threw themselves down flat on the ground as gale force winds picked up and surged through the air. Except for Gabriel who remained hovering in the air, staff grasped tightly in his hands.  
  
He glanced at Pierre who was doubled over, one hand resting on his knee, breathing hard.  _Raphael...  
  
Fuck...fuck...I should’ve fried him...  
  
You weren’t to know he’d do that...  
  
I forgot he could...fuck..._ Pierre swiped a hand over his forehead, smearing sweat over his face.  _Yeah...and now he knows why..._  
  
Pat moved closer to Pierre, resting a hand against his back. “Fuck...Pierre...you’re burning up...”  
  
The bigger man moaned. “That took it outta me...”  
  
Pat pulled him close wrapping a supportive arm around his shoulders. “I bet...” He tilted his head toward Gabriel. “I think we should call it a day...”  
  
Joscelin growled. “We can’t afford to let him go...”  
  
Pierre shot a disdainful look his way. “We can. And will. I’m not going after him.”  
  
“Pierre...”  
  
“Fuck that, Joscelin. I can find him again. But, not now...I need to go...lie down...” Pierre swayed slightly, his whole body trembling.  
  
Annalise stepped forward a hesitant look on her face. “Are you okay, Pierre?”  
  
He turned his gaze to meet hers. “I will be.” He smiled weakly. “Give me a few hours.”  
  
Gabriel slowly came back down so his feet were resting on the ground.  _We should go back inside...the rest of the band is down there...they’ll want an explanation_.  
  
Pierre sighed deeply and glanced at Pat.  
  
“I can do that, we owe them one,” Pat rubbed a hand gently between Pierre’s shoulder blades.  
  
The singer nodded gratefully and closed his eyes. Seconds later he vanished from the roof, taking Pat with him. Gabriel smiled faintly and glanced at those left on the roof with him.  
  
Michael breathed out harshly. “Well, all we can do now is wait.”  
  
Annalise nodded slowly. “What do you think will happen?”  
  
Joscelin stretched. “Pierre will do good. But, he’s probably right, it can wait.”  
  
Gabriel nodded.  _It can. Raph...Pierre is right. He will be able to find him again. There’s no where he can go without Pierre knowing...I’ve made sure of that._  
  
Joscelin smiled coldly. “Good.”  
  
He glanced at Annalise, who was gazing thoughtfully at the Archangel. “Joscelin was going to say something about me before...but, he didn’t... Do you know who I am?”  
  
Gabriel nodded slowly, his eyes shining.  _You are Raphael’s female incarnation..._  
  
Joscelin shivered slightly. “Come on...let’s go back inside...”  
  
Annalise swallowed hard drawing back, holding her hand to her forehead. “That...that explains...nothing...”  
  
The archangel just smiled.  _All will be clear eventually..._  
  
Annalise smiled back, preparing to vanish, saluting the angel as she did so. “I’ll hold you to that, Gabriel.”  
  
He nodded and vanished; the other three following seconds later. Leaving only one sign of their presence on the roof, a dark scorch mark in the centre where Pierre’s bolt of power had hit, a slender stream of smoke rising up into the atmosphere.


	15. Recovering the troops

_**The Royal Hotel  
  
Room 501  
  
3 PM**_  
  
“Uh...I thought Pierre’s aura was golden...”  
  
Pierre glanced at Gabriel. “I’m gathering when I get pissed off it changes colour...”  
  
The archangel nodded and looked at Annalise who had made the first observation.  _It’s red and gold...but darkness will overcome it sometimes..._  
  
Annalise swallowed hard, nodding.  
  
The three of them had arranged to meet before joining the rest of the group in the hotel foyer. Pierre had spent the last half an hour in his room, with Pat, just resting and coming to terms with what had just happened. He was a little surprised that he wasn’t actually frustrated about losing the agent, as if he realised that he would get another chance.  
  
He raked tense fingers through his hair. “So, how are we going to do this?”  
  
Gabriel splayed out his hands in front of him.  _It’s your call, Pierre._  
  
Pierre groaned. “Fuck, I don’t know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m curious...”  
  
 _Yeah?_  
  
He glanced at Annalise who was staring back at him a quizzical expression in her purple eyes. “You said Annalise is Raphael’s female incarnation...but how does that work?”  
  
Gabriel smirked.  _Raphael is the most powerful of the Fallen Ones...after Lucifer. His soul split into two after Eve ate of the Apple._  
  
Annalise laughed suddenly. “Are you saying if she hadn’t eaten of the fruit I would never have existed?”  
  
Pierre raised his eyebrows. “That wasn’t the point though, right? Eve had to eat the fruit, right?”  
  
The Archangel nodded slowly.  _Right. Anyway, that caused the split in the Eve’s soul...and you...Pierre...you followed the male line...and the female line ended with Annalise..._  
  
The woman swallowed. “What happens in the end?”  
  
Gabriel looked at her gently.  _You and Pierre will merge as one once more...just as Jon and Angela did...when Raziel returned to the Heavens._  
  
Pierre shivered. “My brother...” He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trembling slightly. An image of his eldest brother imprinted on the insides of his eyelids. He swallowed back a lump that had begun to form in his throat; he still couldn't bring himself to think or talk about what had happened to Jonathan. Opening his eyes he looked at Gabriel who nodded slowly at him.  
  
 _Oui..._  
  
“Um...well then how come they were husband and wife...and Anna and I aren’t y’know?”  
  
Gabriel snorted.  _Because of Samiel._  
  
Pierre frowned. “That doesn’t really explain anything.”  
  
“He’s your twin soul, Pierre.” Annalise smiled; she could explain the twin soul principle because it was something she had studied whilst at the LAD. “Angel souls are an enigma. You can’t explain it.”  
  
Pierre shook his head hard. “Well, if he’s my twin soul...how come his soul wasn’t strong enough to split?”  
  
“It was.”  
  
Gabriel nodded in agreement.  _It was, Pierre. It just didn’t go the same path yours did. Samiel split his soul...and sent half of it into the earthly realms...he became Adam...and is now Pat..._  
  
Pierre clutched at his forehead. “Is that how Samiel can contact me in my...dreams?”  
  
 _Yes. That’s exactly how._  
  
Annalise tilted her head. “I thought only Michael and Lucifer could split their souls?”  
  
Gabriel shook his head.  _I believe even the Fallen Angel knew not of Samiel’s power. You have to remember even though Lucifer is your father...it’s not like in a biological sense. You are all the same in power base...some would even say that Raphael was more powerful than Lucifer. Still...that is a moot point._  
  
Pierre chuckled. “Stronger than Satan, imagine that.”  
  
Gabriel smiled.  _Yes. And that was why you were placed in charge of the whole plan_.  
  
“Even though it was Samiel who originally came up with it.”  
  
Annalise tossed her hair out of her face. “Speaking of Samiel...” She nodded to the door. The other two looked where she indicated.  
  
Pat was leaning in the doorway, arms folded, an amused expression in his hazel eyes. “Hey there, talking about me, eh?”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Not exactly.” He walked over to his lover and draped an arm around his shoulders. “We were just trying to figure out some stuff before we go and talk to the others.”  
  
Pat nodded, leaning into Pierre’s strong frame. “Jason’s told them about the prophecy.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah. David’s pissed...and the others...they won’t talk to me. They’re not happy, babe.”  
  
Pierre sighed heavily. “Well, we do owe them an explanation.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s the truth. You ready, babe?”  
  
The bigger man rolled his shoulders, straightening his back, steeling his mind. “Y’know, if I waited for everything to be perfect...I’d never do anything.”  
  
Pat smirked. “True. Let’s do this, eh?”  
  
Pierre nodded, grabbed his hand and, after glancing back at Annalise and Gabriel, vanished the two of them from the room. Gabriel and Annalise followed on the wake of their power.  
  
 _ **Private Room  
  
10 Minutes later**_  
  
“So. You’re an angel. Pat’s an angel...Gabriel’s not really a kid...Joscelin’s an angel...Mickey’s really on our side, and he’s an angel...Annalise is an angel...and she’s kinda...you...that...that guy with the blonde hair...he’s the Devil...your brother’s an angel...and that tiger we saw in Singapore...he’s your Guardian...or something...? Have I got all that right?” David was standing directly in front of Pierre and was punctuating each word with a frustrated gesture towards the bigger man. The rest of the band was seated on plastic chairs arranged in a semi-circle around a small coffee table.  
  
They watched the singer and bassist as they faced off with each other.  
  
Pierre just nodded in the affirmative at each word David said. “Uh-huh. That’s the gist of it.”  
  
David grunted and rubbed his hands through his hair. “It doesn’t make any sense.” He waved his hand toward Annalise. “How can she be you and you be you...?”  
  
Pierre sighed. “Annalise is herself. Raphael’s soul split into two because his soul-mind was too powerful to remain as a single human identity.” He glanced at Gabriel. “Is that correct?”  
  
Gabriel nodded.  _You got it in one, Pierre._  
  
Pierre smirked faintly then looked back at his friend. “That makes more sense?”  
  
The bassist frowned, scratching his nose. “I’m not sure...” He turned in a circle then glowered at Gabriel. “And you’re really...you were...” He groaned. “You were a fucking kid!”  
  
The Archangel inclined his head toward David.  _Yes. I was. I had to find a way into the world that would be as inconspicuous as possible. This is not two thousand years ago in the time of Jesus. They believed in the supernatural back then...you know...they were very religious, spiritual people. The appearance of an angel...was deemed amazing, but very special. Today...you’d probably write it off as some kind of mental turn..._  
  
David grimaced. “Probably...but what about the whole...Pierre and Pat and...y’know? How do you explain that?”  
  
Gabriel shook his head slowly.  _They are the mortal incarnations of angels. Of course, essentially that means they are immortal...because when they die...they’ll return to Heaven._  
  
Pierre interrupted, “So, you’re saying I will die?”  
  
 _Of old age...yeah...or you could decide to stop aging..._  Gabriel smiled at him.  
  
The singer rolled his eyes. “Nah...I’d rather...not...hang on...Caesar said I couldn’t die?”  
  
The Archangel snorted.  _Well, your soul won’t pass...your mortal body will not last...they’re not made to. But, you will return to the Heavens._  
  
Pierre scratched his face. “What happens to Annalise? I mean...”  
  
Annalise leaned forward on her chair. “I was wondering the same thing.”  
  
David stamped his foot in frustration. “Me too. In fact...we’re all curious...”  
  
The others who had remained silent throughout the exchange all agreed wholeheartedly.  
  
Jeff spoke up. “This just raises more questions.”  
  
Gabriel sighed and stood looking around at them.  _I can’t really explain what will happen. This has never been done before..._ He frowned and shot a look at Pierre.  _I do not think that Raphael knew that his soul would split into two._  
  
Pierre folded his arms. “Come to think of it...maybe I did.”  
  
Annalise laughed. “Right. Do you even remember that much?”  
  
The singer glared at her. “I remember more than you ever knew, Annalise.”  
  
“True.” She sighed. “Is it really important to know what happens regarding that, anyway? Should we not be concentrating on the current issue?”  
  
Pierre rolled his neck slowly. “Yeah...Lucifer...”  
  
David sat on the floor and looked up at the singer, lips drawn together, an unusually serious expression in his eyes. “You have to kill him, or something, right?”  
  
Pierre rubbed a hand wearily over his face. “Yeah, something like that...”  
  
Mickey shifted nervously on his chair. “You should do...what you did to me.”  
  
“What was that?” Chuck stood then sat down again; he was getting edgy. There was an inexplicable energy in the air surrounding them. And, with the door closed, he was beginning to feel a little uneasy.  
  
Mickey looked at the drummer. “He...opened a portal to Hell.”  
  
“Holy shit.”  
  
“Yah. Indeed.”  
  
Chuck looked at Pierre. “Would that work?”  
  
His friend chuckled sourly. “Probably not. I’m not exactly certain how I’m going to destroy him.” Pierre scratched at his chest through the material of his shirt. “I’ll think of something.”  
  
The drummer sighed. “I hope so...” He glanced around at all the others who were nodding slowly in agreement. “We all hope so.”  
  
Pierre groaned. “Then I’d best deliver, eh?”  
  
Pat sat up and leaned over to pat the singer on the back lightly. “You will. I know you will.”  
  
“Yeah, no pressure, of course.” David giggled. That broke the tension in the room.  
  
“You sound like a girl, Davo.” Pierre smirked. The bassist couldn’t take it anymore; he flung himself at his friend and tackled him. As he landed on top of him, Pierre cracked up laughing, holding onto the slighter man’s body. “Wow, somebody loves me...”  
  
David slapped his chest then laughed as well. “Yeah...we all love you...even though you confuse the shit out of us...”  
  
Pierre shrugged genially. “Ah, well...I know it’ll be clear...one of these days.”  
  
“Glad to hear it, Bouvier.” The bassist slowly lifted himself off his friend’s body and stood up. “Right. I’m hungry.”  
  
The others laughed.  
  
Chuck rolled his eyes. “Right, then we’d better find you some food.”  
  
Pierre stood and slowly stretched his arms, grinning. “Maybe Joscelin could show us a good place to eat?”  
  
The blonde smiled. “Sure thing, the best place is  _La Porchetta_...it’s a little Italian restaurant, that also sells the finest French cuisine here in Paris.”  
  
Chuck raised his eyebrows, as the others got ready to leave the room. “Well then, lead the way.”  
  
 _ **Somewhere  
  
Same Time**_  
  
 _Fuck...was not expecting that..._  Agent 78 lay on his back on cold concrete flooring, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. His heart was beating a rapid tattoo inside his rib cage, and he was still in shock. His head was spinning from what Pierre had told him.  _I’m the fucking Fallen Angel...I’m Satan...how the hell...?_  
  
He groaned and turned his head to gaze unseeingly at the wall. He could still feel the aftershock of Pierre’s fury, even though he hadn’t been physically attacked. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and balled his hands into fists. “Fuck...how could we have gotten it so fucking wrong...”  
  
“Sir?”  
  
He slitted one eye open to see one of his men bending over him, concern in his eyes. “Back up, soldier.”  
  
The other man did so and straightened. “Are you okay, sir?”  
  
Agent 78 grumbled as he sat up. “I’ll be fine. Just...fuck...we screwed up. The prophecy. We were wrong about the prophecy.”  
  
The other agent frowned. “Perhaps we just interpreted it incorrectly.”  
  
“That doesn’t fucking help us now, does it!?”  
  
“No, sir.”  
  
The silver-haired agent groaned again. “Crap. That’s it. We’re going back to headquarters. I need to have a chat with The Captain.” He carefully stood up, stretching his muscles slowly. Then he glared at the other agent, the one who had been concerned for him. “66...you will stay here. In case they come looking for me.”  
  
The young agent drew up to his fully height, chin lifted and saluted. “You can count on me, sir.”  
  
“Good.” Agent 78 closed his eyes and concentrated on an image of the CSS Head Quarters. Minutes later he appeared in the quiet corridor that leads to The Captain’s office.  
  
He hurried down the hallway shoes making no sound on the floor. Halting outside the office, he took several deep breaths, steeling his mind, and gathering his thoughts before pushing the door open and stepping inside.  
  
“Ah, how good of you to show up. I hear we have some developments.”  
  
The agent blinked, noticing that the Captain was standing in the shadows, so his face was hidden from view. His superior’s voice was laced with fury, and that worried the agent greatly.  
  
“Captain, I’m afraid I do not have any good news.”  
  
“I gathered that was why you came directly to me.” He stepped out of the shadows and glared at the agent. “I hear that Pierre...lost his cool...how come I was not informed of Pierre’s angelic state.”  
  
The agent swallowed hard. “We did not know. Not until...”  
  
“Not until what?” The Captain’s eyes narrowed coldly. “Enlighten me.”  
  
Agent 78 breathed out harshly. “I had an encounter with him...and...” He paused, grimacing. Glancing across to the whiteboard he noted the red mark drawn across Annalise’s name. “Your daughter...”  
  
The Captain stiffened. “You ensured me she was dead.”  
  
The agent trembled. “Well apparently Pierre managed to revive her.”  
  
“Well, that is a problem.” The Captain walked forward to stand directly in front of the agent. “Perhaps I need to find someone else to do this job?”  
  
“No...” The silver-haired agent shook his head. “Sir, I can finish this. There is one other thing, sir.”  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
“The prophecy, we misinterpreted it. It’s not Gabriel we want. It’s...it’s Pierre.”  
  
The Captain blinked. “Well, then it is even more important that you destroy him.”  
  
“Yes, Captain. I will not fail.”  
  
“See to it that you don’t.”  
  
Agent 78 bowed his head and, without another word, sensing that this was his last chance to do his job properly, vanished from the office.  
  
 _ **La Porchetta  
  
6 PM**_  
  
 _La Porchetta_  was a small but extremely popular, and hence busy, cafe restaurant near the middle of the tourist district. When the guys and Annalise had arrived a flustered, yet excitable waiter had showed them to a table, chatting about how busy they were and that they might have to wait for their food.  
  
David hadn’t been able to help himself and made some comment about how since the guy was a ‘waiter’ wasn’t it  _his_  job to ‘wait’ for the food? The others had just rolled their eyes.  
  
The waiter had sniffed and once they’d ordered, whisked the menus away so other customers who had just arrived could use them. That didn’t seem to dampen the bassist’s spirits and he just began to order drinks for himself and anyone else who would join him.  
  
When their meals came, they polished them off in record time; the recent events had made them hungry. Then they settled down just to have a time to relax, chat and have a good time. David was now laughing raucously much to the horror of the wait staff.  
  
Pat leaned over to Pierre and muttered quietly in his ear, “I think they want us to leave...we’ve been here for two hours...and he’s been off his face almost the whole time...”  
  
The singer glanced along the table at the slight bassist; his head was thrown back as he laughed at something Mickey had just said to him.  
  
Pierre smirked and reached up to squeeze the back of Pat’s neck. “Forget David, looks like Mickey’s a whole lot more settled than he was before...”  
  
Pat grumbled. “I’m still getting used to the fact that he’s on our side.” He frowned. “And I still don’t understand...”  
  
“You should. Gabriel would’ve reminded you.”  
  
“Yeah, but it’s so much to take in, babe...”  
  
Pierre sighed and hugged him around his neck. “You’ll be right.”  
  
“Yeah...as long as you don’t leave me, Bouvier.”  
  
“Never...” The bigger man nuzzled his nose into Pat’s hair.  _We’ll be together for eternity..._  
  
Patrick smiled faintly, glancing up into Pierre’s deep sombre gaze.  _That sounds so good...  
  
Indeed...still..._ Pierre chuckled lightly.  _It’s weird isn’t it...this will be our last mortal run...next time we meet will be back up in the Heavens..._  
  
A shiver raced down Pat’s spine at his boyfriend’s words. Pierre noticed and just leaned his chin against his shoulder, massaging the tips of his fingers into the back of his neck.  
  
Pat sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.  _You and I need some when we get back to the hotel...  
  
Uhuh..._ Pierre smiled.  
  
David glanced over at the couple at that moment and smirked. “Oi, do you two need a room or something?”  
  
Pat laughed. “Why? You wanna join us?”  
  
“A threesome? I’m totally in!”  
  
Pierre sat back, folding his arms. “You’re not touching my man, David. So, you can just forget about it.”  
  
David’s high-pitched laughter filled the restaurant, causing several other patrons to glare at them.  
  
Jeff slapped him upside the back of his head. “Jeeze, you’re too much, y’know that, David?”  
  
The bassist just giggled.  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes and stood, pulling out a couple of Francs, tossing them on the table. “That’s my share. Come on, Pat. Let’s go.”  
  
Patrick smiled and joined him, glancing back at the others. “We’ll see you guys at the venue tomorrow morning.”  
  
Chuck called out after them as they headed for the door. “10 AM don’t forget!”  
  
“Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”  
  
 _ **The Royal Hotel  
  
Room 500  
  
10 PM**_  
  
Pierre grunted softly as Pat climbed onto the bed and knelt between his legs. The lighter haired man smiled and slowly ran his hands down Pierre’s legs.  
  
“I know, babe...you need some serious loving...” Pat leaned down and pressed a light kiss against Pierre’s naked thigh.  
  
The singer breathed in sharply and reached one hand down to rake tense fingers through his lover’s hair. “Pat...”  
  
Pat smirked against his skin, nuzzling softly. “Tell me what you need, babe...”  
  
Pierre moaned and clenched his fingers into Pat’s dark blonde locks. “Suck me...”  
  
“What’s that babe?” Pat slowly licked up his inner thigh halting just at the point where it met his groin, sucking lightly.  
  
Pierre groaned, his dick stiffening. “Suck me, please...”  
  
Pat smirked and pressed his lips against his inner thigh sucking and licking softly, driving his lover mad. Pierre bucked his hips.  
  
Pat placed a hand on his left hip, stilling his movements. “Patience, babe...”  
  
Pierre growled. “I don’t do patient...”  
  
Pat chuckled low and slowly curled his fingers around his thick shaft. Pierre grunted and moved slightly. His boyfriend squeezed the base firmly. Then he slowly took him into his mouth, swirling his tongue into the slit at the tip.  
  
Pierre let out a deep groan, tilting his head back, breathing hard. “Fuck...”  
  
Pat growled and slid his mouth down Pierre’s shaft, flicking his tongue lightly against the firm muscle. He moaned louder and bucked his hips again. Pat reached up to cup his balls, stroking them firmly. Pierre grunted and moved harder into his mouth.  
  
Pat shifted his weight and dipped his head so he could take him even deeper, feeling the head press against his throat. Pierre snarled, grabbing his head between his hands and pushing a little harder. But, Pat was quicker.  
  
He squeezed Pierre’s balls, and pressed his tongue against the underside of his cock, bobbing his head fast the friction forcing Pierre to a fast come.  
  
He groaned dick jerking as he spurted. Pat pulled back and rubbed his fingers along his length coating his fingers with Pierre’s ejaculate.  
  
Pierre lifted his head. “Whatcha doin’?” His voice was a lusty growl. Pat smirked, trailing his fingers down to Pierre’s ass, circling his hole lightly.  
  
His boyfriend groaned, spreading his legs and lifting his hips. “Fuck Pat...”  
  
“That’s the idea, love...turn over, hey...”  
  
Pierre moaned, turning onto his stomach. Pat moved to kneel over his ass and rested his hands on his back slowly massaging his hands over the tense muscles. Pierre arched up against his touch. He kneaded the heels of his hands into his sides and then over his ass.  
  
Leaning down he pressed a wet kiss against the back of his neck. Then he grasped his hips and rubbed his cock between Pierre’s ass crack. “God, I’m so hard for you...”  
  
Pierre growled and pushed back into him.  
  
Pat swatted his left ass cheek. “Don’t move...” He slid more against his ass, then pulled the cheeks apart and pushed the head against Pierre’s puckered anus.  
  
The bigger man groaned. “Fuck, Pat...yes...”  
  
He ran his palms over the sheets then clutched at the pillow, mashing it as he waited. Pat smirked and slowly pushed forward, watching as Pierre opened to his cock. Grasping his hips firmly, he kept pushing until he was hilted all the way up to his balls.  
  
Pierre grunted clenching his muscles hard along Pat’s rigid length.  
  
“Fuck, that’s tight...” Pat moaned and leaned over his back to lick along his spine.  
  
Pierre groaned. “Just fuck me already...”  
  
Pat grunted and slowly began to pull out until only the head was inside then thrust forward again, instantly finding Pierre’s spot and drawing a guttural moan of pleasure from his lover’s lips. He responded to his moan by repeating the movement, Pierre’s hole clenching hard against his cock.  
  
He slowly began his thrusts, moving firmly against his spot.  
  
Pierre clutched tighter at the pillow, moving his hips back to Pat’s thrusts, his breathing rate increased, heart pounding. Pat grunted as he moved his hips against Pierre’s, stroking his hands along his sides as he pounded into him. The bed creaked slightly beneath them; hotel beds were quite noisy.  
  
Pierre’s breaths quickened, his ass tightening around Pat’s cock. He groaned and reached down between his legs to grip his own cock, sliding his fist up and down its length.  
  
Pat snarled and pumped harder; brushing against Pierre’s prostrate at each thrust. Pierre whined and thumbed the sensitive area near his own ball sac, squeezing and jerking his erection.  
  
Pat squeezed his eyes shut tight, speeding up, slamming into Pierre’s body. “Fuck...I’m close...”  
  
Pierre grunted, clenching more, stroking harder. “Me too...”  
  
Pat smirked and bit him on the back of the neck slamming his hips all the way and holding hard, as his dick began to twitch inside his hole. “Wait for me...”  
  
He grunted then thrust sharply five times as he released. Pierre groaned holding back until he felt Pat slump against his back then he released his own load, tugging at his cock until he was completely finished.  
  
Spent, he collapsed flat on his belly, closing his eyes. Pat rolled off his back, his limp member slipping out.  
  
Moving up he slid an arm over Pierre’s back and nuzzled into his neck. “How was that, babe?”  
  
Pierre mumbled, “Just what I needed...” He took several deep breaths then turned to look into Pat’s eyes. “I needed that a whole fuckin’ lot...lost a lot of energy in that bolt of power I released earlier...”  
  
Pat continued to nuzzle. “I bet...”  
  
“I won’t miss next time...”  
  
“No...?”  
  
Pierre growled sleepily. “Gonna fuckin’ kill him...”  
  
A shiver raced down Pat’s spine at the deadly undertone to his lover’s voice. He tucked his body against Pierre’s and murmured softly. “Tomorrow...”  
  
Pierre smiled, then yawned widely. “ _Oui_...tomorrow...”  
  
Pat rubbed his cheek against Pierre’s then closed his eyes. “Sleep...”  
  
Pierre nodded and closed his own eyes, falling asleep soon after.


	16. L’Angelic dilemma

_**Kingdom of Heaven**_  
  
Lucifer flew passed the golden gates towards his brothers where they had gathered above the shining pool. There was an atmosphere of anxiety surrounding them, permeating their whole being.  
  
 _Brothers!_  
  
Samiel and Raziel turned their heads to the Fallen One and tilted their heads.  
  
 _What is it?  
  
It’s happening...do you see...the blood of the sky...  
  
We see it...Raphael...lost his cool..._  
  
Raziel shivered.  _I didn’t think he had it in him...at least not as Pierre..._  
  
Lucifer growled low, his black eyes like gimlets in their sockets.  _You should not underestimate your brother’s power..._  
  
Raziel shook his head. Then darkness passed across his face and he moved to look into the pool, the scene changing and a black cloud spiralling across the view.  
  
The younger angel scowled deeply.  _Something’s wrong..._  
  
Samiel stiffened and floated a little higher, anxiety shining in his intense blue gaze. He had also seen what Raziel had and it was definitely cause for worry.  
  
 _What is he planning...?  
  
Who?  
  
Your incarnation...that CSS agent..._  
  
Lucifer rubbed at his cheek and squinted slightly.  _It doesn’t look pretty...that cloud..._  
  
Samiel shivered visibly. The others noticed. It was unusual for an angel to react in such a manner; they were normally above the emotional reactions that were the defining feature of the human race.  
  
 _Samiel?_  
  
The blue-eyed angel breathed deeply.  _I think it’s time I made my presence stronger down amongst the mortals. Things are about to happen that I do not believe my incarnation will be able to cope with alone._  
  
The Fallen One frowned.  _Raphael is down there though…  
  
Oui. And he needs his twin soul by his side in his complete form…I must undo the split…_  
  
Raziel’s aura glowed brightly.  _Then go, with my blessing, if not Lucifer’s…_  
  
Lucifer laughed.  _Imagine that…blessings from the Devil.  
  
The people do not understand the truth. We fallen ones have been vilified for long enough, I say we take back our power and lay it at the Almighty’s feet…and the only way to do that is for me to reunite with my mortal incarnation. Give him a boost…_  
  
Lucifer sighed, bowing his head.  _So, no more dreams for Pierre?_  
  
Samiel stretched his muscles.  
  
 _Caesar will be good for those…_  
  
A sudden flare of golden light beside the pool caught the three angels’ attentions. As the light faded, the large predator was crouching there staring at them.  
  
Raphael’s twin soul blinked.  _Speak of the spirits…_  
  
Caesar bared his pearl-like canines.  _There will be no more dreams…I’ll be going to Raphael…it is almost time…_  The large cat’s voice rumbled dangerously in his throat.  
  
Samiel nodded.  _We’ll both go._  He glanced at the other angels.  _Wish me luck…_  
  
Lucifer laughed, eyes sparking dangerously.  _You need no luck, go…and be done with it…_  
  
Samiel grinned then without a sound vanished; the tiger spirit going with him.  
  
 _ **Thursday 5th December, 2007  
The Royal Hotel  
7 AM**_  
  
Patrick’s eyes flickered open; there was a blue glow to his right. He groaned. “What the fuck?”  
  
 _Don’t freak out…_  
  
Pat found himself staring at his angel incarnation. He sat bolt up right. “Samiel…”  
  
Samiel laughed.  _Sorry to startle you…_  
  
Pat rubbed his hands over his face then glanced at Pierre’s slumbering form beside him. Then back at the angel. “What are you doing here?”  
  
The angel sighed settling in a cross-legged position even though he didn’t quite touch the mattress.  _Things are beginning to happen…and Raphael…Pierre needs to deal with Lucifer’s incarnation…_  
  
“I know…but he’s asleep now…can’t he just rest for awhile?”  
  
Samiel grimaced, the blue light softening in the room.  _Well all right, I guess he can. There are some things I need to explain, to you, anyways…_  
  
Patrick tilted his head, sitting up more, propping a pillow up behind him. “Shoot.”  
  
The angel raked tense fingers through his hair.  _Well, I guess neither of you have forgotten about what happened initially to set this all off?_  
  
“Um, Pierre’s brother and sister-in-law getting shot…no, we just haven’t thought about it. Pierre hasn’t talked about it. That can’t be good for him.”  
  
Samiel grunted.  _Well, there’s no need to stress about it…Raziel had rejoined us enlightened beings in Heaven. I can’t say the same for myself…since you’re here…which brings me to my reason for being here._  
  
“I don’t think Pierre can get his head around the fact that Jon and Angela both ended up as the one angel…”  
  
 _No matter, that’s not important now._  
  
Pat glowered at his incarnation. “Pierre will think it is. At the very least we need to know why it happened.”  
  
Samiel shook his head, his voice razor sharp in the man’s mind.  _The CSS interpreted an ancient prophecy incorrectly. They murdered Jon and Angela in the pretext that their ‘son’ was the son of the devil...the Fallen Prince. They wanted Gabriel, alive._  
  
A chill ran down Pat’s spine. “But, Gabe…he is the Archangel Gabriel…and. And we know now that it was Pierre that prophecy was really referring to.”  
  
The angel’s face took on a thoughtful cast.  _Ah, so you figured that one out? Or Gabriel told you?_  
  
“Gabe told us…”  
  
 _Good. Well, that will help make things easier. So…you will also know that Pierre is now in danger. Lucifer’s mortal incarnation has been commanded to come after him._  
  
Pat swallowed passed a lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He glanced upon his lover’s still figure; then he reached out a hand and lightly ran his fingers through Pierre’s sleep messed hair. “I won’t let anything happen to him…”  
  
Samiel smiled sagely.  _That’s why I’m here, to enhance your abilities…by merging our souls as one. Just as Michael did with young Mickey._  
  
Pat glanced sharply at the angel. “So…Mickey?”  
  
 _You need to trust him, Patrick. He is our Brother. One of the Fallen. More importantly…he is your father… you are of the Archangel Michael’s making. We must make amends by the deeds we do in this world. To accomplish our mission we must work together. Remember…we are not alone._  Samiel indicated Pierre.  _There’s Raphael, Aniel, Michael, Annalise, Gabriel. Raziel, and Lucifer himself._  The angel chuckled suddenly.  _Oh, and we cannot forget Septimus and Caesar._  
  
Pat rolled his eyes and carefully climbed out of the bed, swinging his feet to the floor and standing. “Of course not.” His tone was somewhat brittle.  
  
Samiel sighed and lifted a little higher off the bed.  _Now, Patrick. You have a decision to make._  
  
Pat shivered then looked at Pierre’s sleeping form once more. “Will Pierre know?”  
  
 _Raphael will._  
  
“That’s not what I asked.”  
  
 _No. But you might as well have. Pierre. Raphael…he has always been the one soul._  
  
“Not exactly. His soul split after Eve ate of the fruit. Annalise is his female incarnation.”  
  
Samiel frowned.  _Ah, yes I almost forgot. However, I believe they will not merge once we return. That will be the price Raphael will pay for this whole dilemma…he will not be as powerful as he was when we started out. But, then again…he is powerful enough without his feminine side. I think…they were meant to split from each other. That is often how new angels are created._  
  
Pat breathed out slowly realising that it was getting easier to handle the information he was receiving. Perhaps being in the presence of his  _L’Angelic_  counterpart was aiding him. He looked at the angel. “Will this hurt?”  
  
Samiel laughed silently yet it sounded like church bells chiming in Pat’s ears.  _Not at all. Indeed, it will be the most amazing feeling you have ever experienced. Well, apart from your union with Raphael…but that is something else, isn’t it?_  
  
Patrick smirked remembering what had occurred before they fell asleep last night. “Indeed.”  
  
Samiel chuckled then turned to face his mortal incarnation directly. His expression became grave.  _So…?_  
  
Pat straightened his back, and steeled his resolve. “Okay, let’s do this, then. What do I have to do?”  
  
The angel held out his hands in front of him, palms facing upwards.  _Place your palms on top of mine and close your eyes…then, as if you were going to meditate, let your mind drift…_  
  
Pat nodded slowly that he understood and leaned forward to rest his hands on top of the angel’s. He was slightly surprised that the angel’s body was as warm as his was. He hadn’t really known what to expect.  
  
Samiel smirked, obviously knowing Pat’s thoughts. Yet, he made no comment and just directed Pat to close his eyes. He did so and following the angel’s directions was soon in a meditative state of mind…  
  
 _ **7:45 AM**_  
  
Light filtered through the curtain. However, that was not what caused Pierre to wake suddenly. Eyelids fluttering open he felt a familiar presence in the room. Rolling over onto his right side, he smeared sleep from the corners of his eyes.  
  
“Pat?”  
  
His boyfriend sat cross-legged on the bed, next to him. At least, it looked like Pat on the outside; yet, Pierre sensed a change in him. He blinked several times, still rubbing at his eyes.  
  
Then he squinted for a second, before changing his mind and focussing on his lover’s aura. It had altered slightly; the blue was the deepest, brightest azure hue that he had ever seen in his life.  
  
Except he remembered experiencing such vivid colours in his dreams… “ _Samiel_?” Pierre’s pupils dilated.  
  
Patrick grinned, nodding ever so slightly. “Yes. And no.”  
  
The bigger man sat up slowly, a faint frown marring his handsome features. “Could you give me a straight answer?”  
  
Patrick detected a growl in Pierre’s voice. He shrugged. “I’m as much Samiel, as you are Raphael.”  
  
Pierre smeared his hands over his face. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”  
  
“I’m Patrick, for now. When we return to the Heavens, I will be Samiel.” Pat smiled. “I am one and the same. Samiel, Patrick.”  
  
Pierre rolled his eyes. “And, I guess I’m Raphael.”  
  
“You always have been.” Pat reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “Your male soul never split.”  
  
“Right. Because Annalise is Raph’s female incarnation…” Pierre dragged his fingers over his face. “What time is it?”  
  
Pat turned to look at the clock. “Almost 8 AM. We don’t have to be at the venue until 10. Plenty of time.”  
  
His boyfriend raised his eyebrows. “Plenty of time for what, Pat?”  
  
Pat folded his arms and looked pointedly at him; the expression in his eyes was deadly. “You haven’t forgotten about the agent, have you?”  
  
Pierre groaned. “Fuck. No. I just…” He sighed, shaking his head. “Are you saying we should go after him now?”  
  
Pat got up off the bed and went to where he’d put his suitcase, pulling out some clean clothes. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”  
  
“No. There’d be no time.”  
  
Pat peeked at him before pulling on a clean t-shirt. “There’s time. I mean, you’ll be able to find him. You marked him. Whether he knows it or not.”  
  
“I don’t know, Pat. I…I don’t know if I’m ready…” Pierre flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I…need to think about this.”  
  
Pat swung around as he tugged his jeans on. “What’s there to think about? Don’t you want to destroy the bastard?”  
  
“Of course,” He snapped angrily. He got out of bed, and stood there watching as Pat finished dressing. “It’s just…I don’t think it’s such a good idea to go after him now.”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes and grabbed some clothes from Pierre’s bag, throwing them at him. “Get dressed.”  
  
Pierre grunted, caught the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Pat sighed, shaking his head. Still, he knew deep inside his heart that Pierre didn’t need any real convincing.  
  
In a matter of minutes they’d be on their way to catch Lucifer’s incarnation, it was not a matter of if, not anymore…  
  
 ** _Somewhere in Paris  
8:30 AM_**  
  
The young agent that 78 had left in the Paris hideout sat on top of a crate smoking a cigarette. It was silent in the abandoned warehouse and the young man was bored. All he had to amuse himself other than his smokes was a pack of cards, and so he played a game of Solitaire whilst he waited for something to happen.  
  
Suddenly a noise almost like a soft growl came from one corner of the darkened room. Agent 66 sat up, stubbed out his smoke and scanned the area nervously.  
  
Then he laughed to himself. “You’re just imagining things…” he muttered to himself.  
  
He settled back down but then there was a flash of bright red light, blinding him. He slid onto the floor and flung his arms in front of his face, cowering back against the crate.  
  
A shadow fell across him and a soft, yet ice-cold voice spoke to him. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, agent.”  
  
He shivered and slowly brought his arms down. A chill snaked down his spine. Standing before him, deep brown eyes blazing with a righteous anger, red, black and gold light glowing around his form was the man his superior had been looking for.  
  
“ _Pierre Bouvier_ …”  
  
Pierre’s eyes glinted menacingly. “Where is he?”  
  
The young agent swallowed hard, a trickle of sweat sliding down his face. “Where is who?”  
  
Pierre took a step closer. A low growl filled the room as he did so. Agent 66’s eyes widened and he turned his head to find the source of the noise. Pierre chuckled low.  
  
Padding from the shadows, his lean, powerful body sliding past the crates approached the largest tiger the agent had ever seen.  
  
He gasped. “ _What the fuck…_ ”  
  
Caesar snarled, glancing toward Pierre, the tip of his long tail twitching in anticipation.  _Shall I eat him, Raphael?_  
  
His mind voice reverberated not only in Pierre’s skull, but also in that of the now frightened agent.  
  
“No. I’ll deal with him.” Pierre’s lip curled slightly and he lifted his right hand, palm facing toward the young agent a ball of black light forming in the air between them. “Tell me, 66 where is the silver-haired one?”  
  
The young agent, not bothering to ask how Pierre knew him, breathed in hard holding one hand up as if to fend him off. “I…I do not know…he…he told me to stay here…”  
  
Pierre’s eyes hardened, the ball of light grew larger, red sparks flickering off it.  
  
The young man trembled and cowered more against the crate. His eyes darted between the glowing being, the ball of light and the large predator.  
  
“Please…I don’t know…don’t…don’t…” He was shaking, genuine fear written all over his face.  
  
Pierre moved closer, crouching down so he could lock eyes with the agent. “Is that the truth?”  
  
“Yes…yes…” The agent shuddered, shrinking back from him, one eye on the sparking sphere of power. Then he whispered in an almost inaudible tone, “ _Almighty_ …have mercy…”  
  
A strange light came to Pierre’s eyes. “Almighty?” Then he shook his head and glared coldly at the young man. The black sphere intensified, gold flames now penetrating the inner core.  
  
The agent whimpered. “Don’t hurt me…I’m only doing my job…he…he told me to stay here and divert you if you came looking for him…”  
  
Pierre leaned forward and grabbed hold of the collar of his shirt hurling him close. “You had best not be lying to me.”  
  
He shook his head hard. “I’m not…please…” His gaze flickered warily at the sparking ball that now hung in the air, unaided.  
  
Pierre licked his lips and with a blink, it vanished. “You’ll come with me then. We’ll see if you’ve been telling me the truth. Let me warn you now, if you haven’t, I will kill you. Get up.” He dragged the agent to his feet. “Move.”  
  
The agent stumbled forward then halted. “You’ll never find him…”  
  
Pierre snorted. “Oh. I will. I marked him, he cannot escape me.” He shoved the agent ahead of him.  
  
Caesar glided past them toward the exit, paused then vanished into thin air. The hair rose on the back of the agent’s neck.  
  
“How did that…?”  
  
“Don’t talk.” Pierre snapped, before casting his gaze to the side as if there was someone else there.  
  
The agent saw no one; yet, Pat was there, cloaked in invisibility, a cold smile playing on his lips. He inclined his head to Pierre.  _Let’s go…I’ve found Lucifer’s trail…_  
  
Pierre’s jaw tightened, lips pressing together in a thin determined line. He gripped the back of the younger agent’s neck and with a blink vanished with him from the warehouse.  
  
 _ **The Royal Hotel  
9 AM**_  
  
David ran down the corridor to Annalise’s room and pounded on the door. “Anna! Anna!”  
  
The door cracked open; Gabriel still as the full-grown angel, peered around the frame.  _What is it?_  
  
The bassist blew hard, catching his breath. “It’s…Pierre…and…Pat…they’re…they’re gone…”  
  
Annalise appeared behind the archangel, mauve eyes wide. “By the Almighty…they’ve gone after him…”  
  
“What?” David blinked. He didn’t need to ask whom they were referring. “But…they won’t have time…we need to be at the venue by ten…”  
  
Annalise and Gabriel glanced at each other mysterious expressions passing between them. Then they looked back at the bassist.  
  
“Do not worry. They have the Heaven’s on their side…”  
  
David scowled.  
  
Annalise smiled adding firmly, “You should go get ready. Pierre and Pat will meet you when they can.”  
  
The bassist rubbed at his face. “Will they be okay?”  
  
Gabriel smiled faintly.  _Have a little faith, David. They know what they are doing_.  
  
“Alright…well someone should let Chuck know.”  
  
Annalise nodded slightly. “Already done. Mickey spoke to him a moment ago.”  
  
David sighed. “Okay…well, are you two coming with us?”  
  
Gabriel shrugged.  _More hands make light work, eh?_  
  
“Good. See ya in the foyer then.” The bassist scurried away.  
  
Annalise giggled and glanced up at the angel. “He’s so cute, eh…”  
  
Gabriel agreed.  _Yeah, he is._  He stepped back into the room.  _We’d best get ready._  
  
 ** _Palaise de Arena  
10 AM_**  
  
“One. Two. Three…you’re an idiot…testing…test…test…up a little…” David held up his microphone frowning as he set his levels.  
  
Seb who was sitting on the stage his guitar resting over his lap watched on curiously. “What’re you doing?”  
  
The bassist glanced at his friend. “I’m setting my mic levels just in case Pierre doesn’t show up in time.”  
  
Chuck who was just coming up onto the stage, scowled. “Hopefully what he’s doing won’t take too long.”  
  
The youngest member swivelled his head toward the drummer. “What is Pierre doing?”  
  
Chuck sighed and crouched next to him. “He’s gone after that agent…the one who’s Anna’s brother.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
David nodded to the tech then joined them. “Yeah, Pat went with him. Anna and Gabriel told me, before we left the hotel.”  
  
Seb scratched his head an uncertain look on his face. “Will they be okay?”  
  
His friends just shrugged their shoulders. They had no idea whether Pierre and Pat would be all right. They did not understand any of what was going on. Even with the explanations that had been given them, they still could not comprehend. However, on the other hand, for some reason they felt that Pierre knew what he was getting himself into.  
  
Seb sighed and scrunched at his hair with his fingers. “Well, I hope they’ll be back soon…”  
  
“Don’t worry; this is Pierre and Pat we’re talking about.” Chuck trembled slightly as if a chill had passed through his body. He was attempting to reassure them yet he didn’t even sound reassuring to himself.  
  
Suddenly a voice spoke to their right; yet, there didn’t seem to be anyone standing there.  _Perk up, it’s not as bad as you think it is. Everything’s going to be fine._  
  
They turned around as a bright light glowed and then subsided in front of them. There hovering in front of them dark eyes sparkling was a very familiar figure; yet, very unfamiliar at the same time.  
  
Chuck swallowed hard, opened his mouth then closed it again, just to open it once more. “Jonathan?”  
  
The apparition smirked -- the Bouvier grin -- and settled onto the floor.  _My name is Raziel…I am one of the Fallen. But, I guess if it makes it easier for you, I can be Jonathan._  
  
“Holy…” David blinked rapidly. “What…”  
  
 _What am I doing here? Well, I just thought I’d come and let you know that you needn’t worry for Raphael or Samiel. They are well equipped to deal with the agent…he is after all not as powerful as he would like to think. Sure, he could do damage to mere mortals, but he is not in his fully realised incarnation._  
  
Chuck shivered. “Lucifer…Satan…the Devil, right?”  
  
Raziel shook his head firmly.  _That is a human misunderstanding. Lucifer was once the Almighty’s Commander of the Angels’ of Heaven. He is The Fallen Angel._  
  
Annalise and Gabriel arrived at that moment having been helping set up the merch stand.  
  
The angel turned his head, dark eyes narrowing slightly.  _Gabriel…you’ve shown yourself?_  
  
The Archangel smirked.  _It needed to be.  
  
I bet you gave Pierre a shock._  
  
Annalise laughed. “That would be an understatement.”  
  
Seb tilted his head a confused look on his face. Chuck squeezed his shoulder as he glanced between the two angels and Annalise.  
  
Raziel looked at Annalise.  _Whoa…you’re…_  
  
“Raphael’s female incarnation. I know.”  
  
The angel rubbed at his face.  _So, it is true Raphael was more powerful than Lucifer…_  
  
“If that’s why we split, then yes I guess so.”  
  
Raziel nodded then looked back at the three men.  _Back to that agent. He is no threat to Raphael in his current state. And he will remain so because Lucifer is not willing to relinquish his control to one of his mortal incarnations._  
  
Chuck breathed out. “Okay…so, do you think they’ll be back in time for the concert?”  
  
The angel turned his head to look around the venue.  _That I can’t be sure of. But, perhaps their arrival should be used to your advantage._  
  
David piped up, propping his bass against his leg. “What do you mean?”  
  
 _Well, if they’re coming directly from battle…they may arrive in a rush…you know with lots of light and fire and noise…_  
  
Chuck grinned. “I get you. So, maybe we should start with  _What If_?”  
  
“ _Battle_?” Seb squeaked blue eyes wide.  
  
Raziel smiled gently at the younger man.  _No sweat, Sebastien. It’s not anything you need to worry about._  
  
“I hope not. Simple Plan wouldn’t be the same without Pierre. And my radio gig with Pat wouldn’t be the same…without Pat.”  
  
The angel just nodded. Then he turned to look out at the auditorium a faraway look appearing in his almost black stare. Then he sighed heavily and faded from their vision.  
  
Seb shivered and wrapped his arms around his body. David bounced on the balls of his feet then walked away deep in thought. Chuck tilted his head and squinted into auditorium as if trying to see something that wasn’t there. Annalise and Gabriel moved back toward the wings conversing silently.  
  
A heavy air of expectancy weighed down upon all of them, but now all they could do was wait.


	17. The Almighty's Decree

_**The Eiffel Tower  
Same Day  
11 Am**_  
  
Agent 78 stood at the highest point on the Eiffel Tower where the public could get to and gazed out over the city. He braced his palms on the railing watching the people down below. They were totally oblivious to the tension that the mortal incarnation of the Devil felt in the air. Even the redness in the sky no longer commanded the attention of the general populace.  
  
Nevertheless, it had the agent’s full attention. He was aware of every breath of air, every sound, his senses heightened to the minutiae of the world around him. A step there, a step down on the ground miles below him.  
  
A shiver ran along his spine as the seconds ticked past. Then, the sky seemed to darken in his direct line of vision. He stiffened and then he heard a moan and the ‘shush’ of someone collapsing behind him.  
  
Agent 78 swung around, and scowled deeply. There on the platform cowering, shivering was the young agent he’d left in the warehouse.  
  
“ _You_.” He snarled. “How did you get here? You should-” he was cut off as light flared behind the terrified agent.  
  
As it softened, Pierre came into view, his dark eyes blazing with righteous fury.  
  
“ _Pierre Bouvier_ …”  
  
Pierre smirked coldly. “Indeed.” He glanced down at Agent 66 who was trying to shrink into the floor. “Tell me,  _Lucifer_ , did you seriously think that leaving this one behind was the wisest move you’d ever made?”  
  
Agent 78 growled low backing up against the railing glaring at the dark-haired man. “I did not think that you’d find me.” He shivered then snapped furiously glowering at his subordinate. “I  _told you_  to distract him…he was not supposed to find me!”  
  
The agent just shuddered on the floor, not daring to meet his commander’s eyes, not daring to move for fear that, his captor would make good his threat to kill him. Agent 78 looked at the figure standing before him.  
  
“I did not think that you’d find me…” he repeated savagely.  
  
Pierre snarled. “Then you’re a God damned fool. You have been marked. I’d find you even if you’d gone to the ends of the earth.”  
  
The agent trembled as Pierre’s aura began to glow visibly, gold, black and red sparks darting over his body. He breathed hard his heart rate increasing, heart pounding in his chest. Composing himself, he drew his body to its full height.  
  
“Well, I guess, I should take advantage of this situation then.”  
  
Pierre lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? And what exactly do you mean by that?”  
  
The agent sneered, his hand going to the gun attached to his belt. “I’ve been given my orders.”  
  
Pierre watched him then shrugged, bringing his palms together in front of him, pressing them firmly, eyes narrowed. “Go ahead…if you think a bullet will do me harm…then you’re more foolish than I thought.”  
  
Agent 78 snarled, unbuckling the holster and drawing the firearm, lifting it to aim at the singer. Pierre slowly drew his hands apart, a silvery bolt of lightning forming between his palms. The agent laughed coldly.  
  
“You think you can hit me this time? Let me tell you something, this is no ordinary weapon. It doesn’t shoot regular bullets. The pellets in this gun will shatter your soul and send you to Hell.”  
  
The colour drained from Pierre’s face at his words and he hesitated, the bolt wavering between his hands. “No. You couldn’t possibly…”  
  
The agent sneered cruelly. “I’m well prepared this time,  _Raphael_. Do your worst.”  
  
Pierre quivered, his aura shining brighter than ever, furious sparks flying off the expanding glow. A voice spoke inside his mind as he held back, trembling uncertain of how he should proceed.  
  
 _Ancient one, have faith in the Almighty…and let go of your worries…your kin will protect you…just let go…_  
  
He breathed out steadily staring directly into the agent’s deep black eyes. Curling his lips, he shifted his weight, spreading his hands apart more, the electric bolt increasing in size.  
  
Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, the intensifying electric energy enveloping the both of them. They both noticed that a wind had begun to blow, circling them as they stood there.  
  
Agent 66, still cowering on the ground peered up at the two men, eyes wide as he noticed that they had begun to lift from the platform. His superior slid the safety off on his firearm, finger tightening on the trigger. Pierre shifted drawing the bolt back, ready to hurl. He licked his lips then let it go as if releasing an arrow.  
  
Agent 78 pressed the trigger at the exact same instant. A bolt of black energy exploded from the barrel; Pierre’s eyes widened for a split second and then it was like an explosion of light as the pellet of darkness penetrated his aura and shattered his core.  
  
“ _NOOOO! PIERRE!_ ”  
  
Patrick appeared at that exact moment but was tripped by the younger agent who pulled him back, hanging onto him.  
  
“No! You’ll get killed!”  
  
Pat snarled shoving him away. “Get down…”  
  
His own aura raged as he flung himself at the spot Pierre had been. Then he looked toward where Agent 78 was illuminated by Pierre’s lightning bolt just as it struck him in the heart and blew him apart. But, not before a cold triumphant smile spread across his face.  
  
Pat shook his head, blinking at the spots that danced in front of his eyes. Then he slumped to the metal platform and a strangled sob escaped him.  
  
“No…Pierre…” He banged his fist against the platform, causing his knuckles to bleed. “No…no…no…”  
  
The younger agent watched him silently, not sure of what to say or do. Pat slowly lifted his head and glared at him.  
  
“Did you know he could do that?”  
  
Agent 66 shook his head hard. “No…no I had no idea…I’m just a rookie…”  
  
Pat growled half under his breath. “Just like Mickey…”  
  
The agent remained quiet, looking down. Pat sighed heavily and squeezed his eyes shut tight.  
  
 _How could this happen…I was supposed to be able to stop him from getting hurt…Samiel…Samiel…_  
  
 _You of so little faith…the Almighty Himself spoke to us Fallen Ones and you did not listen…_  
  
 _The Almighty…what does He care?_  
  
 _We are His angels…he will always care…_  
  
 _Fuck…I can’t go back to the others without Pierre…_  
  
 _You must. Just have faith…your soul mate is not as far as you think…_  
  
 _Didn’t you hear what Lucifer said…that weapon shattered his soul and sent him to Hell…_  
  
 _That is only what he thinks. Come…we’d best leave here…oh and bring the young agent._  
  
Agent 66 tilted his head. If he didn’t know any better, it looked like the other man was wrestling with his thoughts, as if two minds were speaking to him. At least it looked as if he was talking to himself.  
  
Pat opened his eyes and looked sadly at the young agent.  
  
“Come on. We’d better get down from here.”  
  
He blinked. “What about…your friend…?”  
  
“He’s gone,” Pat replied harshly. “We need to leave before the authorities get suspicious.”  
  
The young agent peered over the railing. “Nobody seemed to notice what happened here…”  
  
Pat smirked faintly. “That was my doing. Come on, get up.” He grabbed the agent by the arm and vanished them both from the Tower.  
  
They appeared in the back halls of the  _Palaise de Arena_  and Pat lead the stunned agent to the band’s dressing room. Pushing the door open he found Chuck sitting on the table tapping the end of his drum stick on his left knee. The drummer looked up, then jumped off the table, eyes wide.  
  
“Pat! You’re here…but-”  
  
Pat interrupted before he could go on. “Pierre’s gone. You guys need to get on stage. I’m guessing David set his levels to lead vocals already?”  
  
Chuck blinked, bottom lip quivering. He hadn’t heard any of his friend’s sentences after the words ‘Pierre’s gone’.  
  
“Gone?  _Gone? What the fuck do you mean?_ ”  
  
Pat shook his head. “There’s no time to explain. You have five minutes to get on stage. In fact, what are you still doing back here?”  
  
Chuck trembled. “Waiting for you guys…” He noticed the young agent and scowled. “Who’s this?”  
  
Pat frowned and glanced at agent 66. “Nobody important. Just go, Chuck.”  
  
The drummer swallowed hard clutching his sticks tightly. “But…Pierre…”  
  
Pat shook his head wearily. “Chuck…”  
  
Chuck sighed and swung around to exit the dressing room. Heaviness settled upon Pat as he stood watching his friend go. He shivered and tilted his head back. Agent 66 watched on quietly.  
  
Beginning to pace circles, Pat rubbed his hands over his face, his own aura flaring within his core. He groaned softly.  
  
“What am I supposed to do without Pierre…?”  
  
The agent sensed that it was not a question the elder man wanted answered so remained silent standing in a corner. Pat eventually looked over at him, his expression guarded.  
  
“Did he tell you anything of what he was planning?”  
  
“No. Not a thing. I had no idea the CSS had weapons like that…it’s…like something out of a Sci Fi movie…”  
  
Pat grimaced. “Except it was real…they’re both gone.”  
  
He straightened slightly, realising all of a sudden that it was true, Agent 78 had been obliterated; Pierre’s power had met its mark. Yet, he had no idea whether they had accomplished what they’d set out to do.  
  
Was his soul back where it belonged, or had it just been sent somewhere where it could manifest once more on their mortal plane of existence and destroy the world, as they knew it.  
  
Growling softly and scrunching his fingers in his hair, he stood with his eyes closed allowing his mind to drift so he could connect with the Heavens.  
  
 _Please…please…don’t let this all be in vain…_  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _Raphael…Raphael…get up…_  
  
He groaned, slowly, cautiously prying his eyes open. He had to blink several times when he saw the being who addressed him.  
  
 _Jon…no…Raziel…?_  
  
Memories of what had passed flooded his mind. He sat up, realising that he was hovering several feet off the ground.  
  
The archangel Raziel smiled at him.  _That was amazing. You blew him all the way to Purgatory and beyond. And the Fallen One actually has a headache because of it._  
  
He smeared a hand over his face, stopping when he realised his aura now glowed even brighter than before.  _What the…  
  
Ah, yes…you’ve reached your full potential. You destroyed Lucifer’s earthly incarnation and sent his soul back to its rightful place._  
  
Pierre -- Raphael -- slowly shook his head.  _This isn’t Hell, is it?  
  
No fear, brother. You are in Heaven._ Raziel swept one arm outwards indicating the gates that they stood before.  
  
Raphael stretched and looked up at them. Then he shook his head.  _No…it’s not my time…_  
  
He swivelled around, saw the Pool, and moved over to peer into it. Sorrow welled in his heart as he saw the figure shining in its depths.  
  
 _Samiel…I can’t leave him…_  
  
Raziel floated up next to him.  _Look at yourself, Raphael…_  
  
The dark angel frowned as the surface of the Pool rippled then stilled into a shining mirror. His reflection was of a being so beautiful it defied description; deep black eyes, long wavy black hair, well-muscled body, not a blemish on his bare torso.  
  
He lifted both his arms, the sleeve tattoo on his left looked alive, the carp seemed to move on his bicep. He trembled, lowered his arms, and continued to stare into the Pool as it shimmered and the image of his soul mate filled his vision.  
  
 _I have to go back…_  
  
Raziel frowned.  _But, you must stay, Lucifer says that the Almighty may even now be willing to reinstate us to the Heavens as his Guard…_  
  
Raphael bristled, black sparks flickering in his aura.  _I cannot leave him…not yet…and anyway, Michael and Annalise are still down there…_  
  
Raziel made to protest but suddenly a breeze blew around the two archangels and a terrible voice rang sending shivers through them.  
  
 _ **RAZIEL, IT IS NOT FOR YOU TO PREVENT ONE OF MY ANGELS FROM DOING WHAT HIS HEART IS WILLING HIM TO DO.**_  
  
 _Almighty!_  Raziel gasped and his aura shone brightly as he bowed low.  _Forgive me…_  
  
The voice warmed.  _ **I HAVE NEVER STOPPED LOVING ANY OF YOU. ALLOW RAPHAEL TO SHOW THAT SAME LOVE…AFTER ALL THAT WAS THE REASON FOR YOUR SEPARATION FROM ME. TO LEARN HOW TO LOVE…AND HE IS RIGHT, IT IS NOT HIS TIME. ENOUGH MISCHIEF HAS BEEN WROUGHT.**_  
  
The voice focussed on Raphael who peered upwards.  
  
 _ **DO NOT FEAR, ANCIENT ONE; YOU WILL RETURN TO MY KINGDOM, BUT FOR NOW…RETURN TO THE EARTH AND REMEMBER THE LESSONS YOU HAVE LEARNED. THE WORLD WILL END SOME DAY AND YOU SHALL ALL BE REDEEMED…BUT FOR NOW…GO WHERE YOU ARE NEEDED…**_  
  
Raphael bowed his head, bringing his hands together in front of him. I thank you… He closed his eyes. Raziel grabbed at him.  _Wait…our father…Lucifer…he wants to see you…_  
  
Raphael smiled fiercely, without opening his eyes.  _Tell him, I’ll see him at the End of Days…_  
  
And with that he faded from his brother’s view.  
  
 ** _Palaise de Arena  
Noon_**  
  
Pat lowered the camera for the fifth time, smearing the back of his hand over his eyes, bringing it away staring angrily at the tears that clung to the tiny hairs. Then he wiped his sleeve against the rubber eyepiece smearing salty tears over it.  
  
“Shit…” He groaned and pulled a tissue from his back pocket, polishing the eyepiece so he could see through it. Then he lifted it and stared through the viewfinder, watching as David leaned into his microphone and sang loudly.  
  
The bassist was doing a good enough job that the kids in the audience didn’t appear too perturbed by Pierre’s absence. Of course, the band had come up with an explanation for why the singer was not there; yet, they all felt that they owed their fans something better than a lame-ass excuse that his throat was sore.  
  
Anyway, Pat kept the camera trained on David’s slight figure as he moved around the stage, came back to the mic, joked with the crowd and strummed at his bass. It wasn’t the same and Pat sensed that they were all feeling it.  
  
He could see Chuck, at the drums, peering over his shoulder, up into the ceiling rafters as if Pierre would just materialise there. Jeff was gazing absently into space as his fingers played the lead automatically. Seb’s smile was forced, sadness shining in his watery eyes.  
  
Pat sighed and swung the camera to point at the youngest member just as David began to speak into his microphone, announcing the next song. However, his words never reached Pat whose mind was enveloped by a warm, intimate sensation, a voice so different, yet so familiar, ringing in his ears.  
  
 _Samiel…do not panic…I’m coming back…I’m here…_  
  
Pat’s grip tightened on the camera, and his breathing became ragged.  _Pierre…?  
  
Not quite, love…_  
  
A tingle snaked down his spine.  _Raphael…  
  
Bingo._  
  
As soon as the echo dissipated from his mind, the lights suddenly cut out. The crowd gasped, yet, somehow Pat sensed that his friends up on stage knew not to stop playing. Instead they seemed to move on autopilot as Chuck remembered the advice given him by the elder Bouvier. He counted silently as the intro to  _What If_  began to play.  
  
David shivered and squinted into the darkness sensing someone standing quite close to him, someone who hadn’t been there a moment before. The figure chuckled, then spoke in a low voice that only the bassist could hear; in fact, David swore that the voice was inside his mind, even though he knew the person (?) beside him was the one communicating to him.  
  
 _Hold back…when the lights come back I’ll take over lead…_  
  
“Pierre?”  
  
 _I guess so…go on…_  
  
David turned and leaned into his microphone to sing the intro line to the song. And then the lights flared blue, orange, red, as the chords rose to a mighty crescendo then levelled off, as Raphael was illuminated centre stage.  
  
The kids in the mosh yelled out in excitement. Of course, none of them noticed anything different; they thought, believed, knew that it was Pierre and were just happy that he had appeared. Yet, David and Sebastien knew that this was not the Pierre they had known, something about him had changed.  
  
(Notwithstanding that, he actually appeared different; because at that particular moment he was projecting the appearance of the singer. As an angel, he could alter his appearance so he looked as people expected him to look.)  
  
However, there was no time now to ponder that, they had to perform.  
  
Raphael grinned, his dark eyes sparkling as he lifted the microphone to his lips and began to sing, his deep voice reverberating through the arena, filling every corner of the building and sending shivers down everyone’s spines.  
  
Pat had to lean back against the barrier as he felt a tingling at the base of his spine. He balanced his camera in his right hand as he cautiously rubbed his left over his groin. He frowned as his jeans became uncomfortably tight.  
  
 _Not now, Raphael…  
  
My apologies, love…I’ll turn down the heat a little…_  
  
The lights softened as the band transitioned into the next song. Pat felt the tingling ease and found that he could concentrate more on the job at hand.  
  
 _Thanks…now keep singing…  
  
Will do…will do…_  
  
 ** _Backstage  
2 PM_**  
  
Raphael appeared in the dressing room and perched on top of the table where catering had left food for the band. He was the first there and so he waited quietly for the others to arrive. The door opened and David popped his head around it.  
  
He squinted at the man sitting on the table. In the bright light of the dressing room, he could see the differences with a clarity he hadn’t had whilst on the stage. For one, his hair and eyes were pitch black, and he looked too beautiful to be human.  
  
He strode toward the stranger and glowered at him. “You’re not Pierre.” His voice faltered when his quizzical gaze settled on the sleeve tattoo on his left arm. It looked almost exactly the same as Pierre’s.  
  
Raphael shrugged.  _I was Pierre._  
  
David’s brow furrowed in consternation. “Can you talk properly…?”  
  
The archangel laughed. “Sure, if that’d make you feel better about this.”  
  
“You sound kinda like Pierre.”  
  
Raphael smirked. “Well, essentially Pierre is part of me.” He held out his arms. “I am Pierre’s  _L’Angelic_  incarnation. Some might say I am his perfect incarnation. But then, what is perfection?”  
  
The bassist raked his fingers through his hair. “Well, your singing voice is spot on.”  
  
Raphael rolled his eyes. “All Archangels have perfect voices. Not boasting or anything, just stating a matter of fact.”  
  
David nodded slowly as he digested what the angel, who looked like his best friend, had said. “So…who are you?”  
  
“I am Raphael, one of the Fallen. Son of Lucifer.” He smiled. “Twin soul of Samiel, whom you know as Patrick.”  
  
David scratched at his head, just as Chuck entered with Pat. The bassist looked back at them then looked at Raphael.  
  
“So, you’re actually Raphael? You’re not just his soul inside Pierre’s body…like it is with Pat?”  
  
The angel looked toward Pat and grinned, black eyes glinting. “That’s right. I am Raphael. Pierre is no longer. But you do not need to be sad, because I am Pierre, just in better packaging.”  
  
Pat, who finally was standing next to the bassist, snapped angrily, “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”  
  
Raphael chocked his head to the side. “No? I would think you’d be okay with this, Samiel. This is what we wanted.”  
  
Pat slowly shook his head. “No. I’m not ready to relinquish my love for Pierre.”  
  
“But, this is me. I am he. I always have been.” He jumped off the table and walked forward to stand directly in front of him.  
  
Pat shook his head in denial. “No…it’s not time…only if the Almighty-”  
  
Raphael cut him off, lifting his hands and pressing them tenderly to Pat’s cheeks, leaning close, speaking in his mind.  _He loves us, Samiel…he has always loved us…He says that we shall be redeemed…but we need to stay here because the people need us…we will return to Heaven at the End of Days…_  
  
Chuck and David backed off, watching the man who looked so much like Pierre, but at the same time seemed more real then their old friend had.  
  
Patrick breathed out harshly. “Fuck, Raphael…I just…” He broke down, leaning into his solid frame. “He just…I saw…your soul was shattered…the darkness…”  
  
Raphael wrapped his arms around him firmly, rocking him slowly.  _No. That’s just what you saw. But, I was ready for it. Remember as the Fallen Ones we cannot be harmed by the darkness. The darkness that resides inside us cancels out if darkness meets it._  
  
Pat looked up at him.  _I never knew that…  
  
Now you do…_  
  
Pat shook his head again then pushed away and looked around at the others. They were all there now watching on curiously. Even Annalise, Mickey and Gabriel were there. The latter three were smiling in content.  
  
Raphael nodded to them then turned his attention back to his soul mate. He could see that he looked uncomfortable so he made him an offer.  
  
“Samiel…Patrick. If it’d make it easier on you, I can appear as Pierre.”  
  
Pat met his gaze steadily. “No. I just…need to adjust. I’ll be fine…”  
  
Chuck suddenly spoke up. “Um. If you’re not disappearing and going back...to…um…there, y’know…maybe you should at least appear as Pierre in public…”  
  
Raphael’s lip curled up slightly and right there in front of them, his hair and eyes lightened and the Koi carp on his sleeve stopped moving. His appearance seemed to dim as well, making him appear more human.  
  
“Is that better?”  
  
Chuck relaxed. “Much. Of course, when it’s just us…”  
  
Raphael nodded, returning to his true form, and then hooked an arm around Pat’s neck. Pat looked into his deep black eyes.  
  
“Hey…I just realised something…since he wasn’t successful in destroying you…what does that mean?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Chuck added, “Didn’t the CSS think that the spawn of Satan would cause the end of the world?”  
  
Raphael looked at the drummer. “The world will end, but only when the Almighty decrees that it will end. And not in the way those earthly agents think. They say they have some ancient prophesy? But remember, those prophesies were written by human hands. The Almighty is beyond human knowledge. Destroying me would not save the world from ending.”  
  
Patrick smirked voicing a thought that the other angels present -- Annalise, Michael, Gabriel -- echoed in their own minds, “Destroying  _Raphael_  would result in the destruction of the world as we know it. He is the Son of Lucifer after all.”  
  
Raphael added, tongue firmly in cheek, “Prince of Darkness. That’s me.”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes then leaned his head on his shoulder. “Yeah, my Prince of Darkness.”  
  
The Fallen Angel growled and pulled him closer.  _And don’t you forget it._  
  
Pat smiled softly, blue eyes glimmering.  _Never_. He looked at his friends. “The demise of the Fallen Ones would spell disaster for the world, because in a way every single human being is a Fallen Angel… we are all here doing time on earth to make up for the sins of the first Man and Woman.”  
  
“So, is that why we exist?”  
  
“No, you exist because the Almighty loves you…” Pat smiled. “Loves all of us.”  
  
Raphael nodded. “Even us Fallen Ones.” He then looked across to Gabriel, Michael and Annalise.  
  
Gabriel inclined his head to him.  _Especially we Fallen Ones…_  
  
Joscelin appeared in their midst at that moment and glanced around at them all. Then his quick gaze met Raphael’s and his eyebrows lifted.  
  
“Raphael?”  
  
The archangel nodded. “Cassiel.”  
  
Pat squinted at the blonde. “Where’ve you been?”  
  
Joscelin shrugged. “Was watching the gig from the mosh, absolutely insane down there…”  
  
Raphael snorted. “Yeah, I tried it myself as a kid.”  
  
“As Pierre, you mean.” David pointed out.  
  
He smiled. “Yes. Indeed. As Pierre. The best of my incarnations.”  
  
Pat flushed and moved closer. “And am I the best of Samiel’s?”  
  
Raphael draped his arm around Pat’s neck and nuzzled his nose into his ear. “No matter when, no matter where…you’ve always been the best…”  
  
David laughed then, his typical high-pitched effervescent laugh, “Always hot for the Merch Whore…”  
  
The others rolled their eyes.  
  
Chuck smirked. “Well, obviously nothing’s changed there.”  
  
Pat agreed wholeheartedly. “And if life goes according to plan…it never will.”


	18. Angels brought me here

_**Six Months Later  
June 2008  
Quebec City  
CSS HQ**_  
  
Andre Caleau stood staring at the door in front of him. There was no signage on the solid wooden barrier as there had been months earlier. This was his office now. The LAD had enabled the young man to move forward with his career whilst insisting that the Canadian Secret Service demote the previous Captain.  
  
Placing a palm on the door, he slowly pushed it open. He froze at the sight of the figure leaning against his desk.  
  
He swallowed hard, pausing before stepping into the office. “Pierre Bouvier?”  
  
The figure stepped from the shadows and smiled faintly. “You can call me that, if you want. I’d prefer Raphael though.”  
  
Andre blinked.  
  
Raphael smirked pushing up the sleeves of his shirt. “You’re Agent 66.”  
  
Andre cleared his throat. “Not anymore. I’m The Captain of the CSS now.”  
  
Raphael chuckled. “I know. I thought I’d come and congratulate you on your promotion.” He straightened and walked forward to stand directly in front of him, staring down into his eyes. “Hopefully you won’t make the same mistakes the previous Captain did.”  
  
Andre smiled sheepishly. “I promise to try my best.”  
  
Raphael stepped back. “Anything else?”  
  
The young Captain nodded. “I’ll learn from my experiences.” He hesitated then looked curiously at the angel. “You’re an angel, aren’t you?”  
  
“The LAD have explained to you, have they not?”  
  
“Everything.”  
  
“Then you know the answer to that question.”  
  
Andre chuckled. “Hey, what about that…uh…tiger?”  
  
Raphael laughed outright. “Caesar? He’s still around…never fear though…he’s a great ally to have on your side.”  
  
The Captain breathed out slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”  
  
Raphael smiled more then stepped back and folded his arms. “I’ll be keeping an eye on things from now on…good luck with everything.”  
  
The young Captain felt that he should salute him, and so he did. Raphael winked at him and then vanished, leaving the young man to ponder the promises he had made, and the future to come.  
  
 _ **Toronto  
Parliament House**_  
  
Jamieson Granger breathed a huge sigh of relief as he stepped out of the Prime Minister’s office for the final time. The new PM had finally taken over office. It had come as no surprise to anyone who the new leader of the country was. Gabriel Bouvier had proved to be the best candidate to fill the position permanently.  
  
Of course, no one seemed to question the fact that Gabriel had been a child only just recently, that he was in fact Jon and Angela’s son. After all, the public hadn’t ever really seen the only son of the former PM and his wife, or at least he hadn’t drawn much attention.  
  
Jamieson was of course a little anxious about how it would work, but Jason had convinced him that everything would work out fine. Gabriel was wiser than he seemed; he may only look young, but in reality he was thousands of years old. Jamieson hadn’t laughed at that notion, because he knew that being open-minded was very important in the current climate of the world.  
  
The international issues were still at the forefront of the public mind; yet, he felt that Gabriel would manage admirably. After all, it was said he had been the one who appeared to the Virgin and told her that she would bear the Son of the Almighty.  
  
Jamieson turned a circle in the large entrance foyer and gazed at the portrait on the wall. A wry smile played on his lips. Gabriel stepped out of the office at the minute Jamieson’s eyes settled on the painting.  
  
“You know, Jon knew the truth, Jamieson.”  
  
The elder man turned to look at the Prime Minister. “He did?”  
  
“Yes, that’s the real reason that painting is hanging there.”  
  
Jamieson rubbed his chin. “It doesn’t look anything like you.”  
  
Gabriel snorted. “Well, the Archangels never had wings. So, I guess in that regard, it looks nothing like what I really look like.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Anyway. It is only an artist’s impression.”  
  
“Fair enough. I guess whoever painted it never met you.”  
  
“Exactly. But, they did a good enough job.” Gabriel smiled, then sighed deeply. “I hope I do well enough by the country.”  
  
Jamieson smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure you will, Gabe. You care. And that means a lot to the public.”  
  
Gabriel folded his arms and nodded slowly. “It does, doesn’t it?” He walked toward the entrance and stared out across the front lawn. “Well, I guess all I can do is try my best…”  
  
The elder man joined him and agreed wholeheartedly. “That’s all we can ask for…”  
  
 ** _France - Paris  
Joscelin’s Apartment_**  
  
Annalise leaned on the windowsill staring at Joscelin as he moved around the bedroom.  
  
“So, we going to give us another go?”  
  
He looked at her. “If you wish.”  
  
She pushed away from the window and walked over to him, placing her hands on his arms. “After everything that has happened…I feel we need to…”  
  
Joscelin wrapped his arms around her waist. “Well, everything sorted itself out in the end…”  
  
“Yeah, it’s just weird…you know, what with Pierre no longer existing…”  
  
He shrugged. “Raphael has taken his place. And maybe for the better…”  
  
“Maybe. I just think it’s hard on Pat.”  
  
“Not so much. Those two are connected no matter who they are, where they are, what time, what age, what place.”  
  
“What about us?”  
  
Joscelin smiled. “What about us, Anna? We’ve been together for eternity too.”  
  
Annalise blushed her eyes a soft, tender lilac. “Together forever, eh Cassiel?”  
  
“Indeed.”  
  
 ** _Laval  
Chuck’s Basement_**  
  
David tilted his beer bottle and stared into the depths a serious expression on his face. Chuck sat at his drum kit watching the bassist. Jeff stood next to the sofa that he was sitting on. Seb was seated on the floor. David finally came out of his contemplation and looked at them all.  
  
“So, how do we make this work?”  
  
“Well,” Chuck sucked on his bottom lip. “Raphael said he can appear as Pierre in public.”  
  
David scowled. “Yeah, but it’s still not the same.”  
  
The drummer smiled wryly. “Nothing could remain the same after everything that happened last year. Anyway, we should see it as a bonus, Raphael has a better voice than Pierre did, and he won’t get tired and or sick.”  
  
Seb added with a snort, “And he’s as funny as Hell…”  
  
There was a brief pause after the younger member’s statement and then they all cracked it.  
  
“That’s a good one!” Jeff chortled.  
  
“I bet Raphael could make Hell funny…”  
  
“No pun intended of course.”  
  
“Of course not.” Chuck smirked, adding another point. “You know there wasn’t even time for me to be too shocked and upset about Pierre being gone because Raph suddenly appeared that night…”  
  
“Yeah, that was pretty fucking amazing…” David shook his head then took a long gulp of beer. After that, there was a lull between the four men.  
  
There was a knocking at the basement door at that point.  
  
Chuck yelled out. “It’s open!”  
  
The door cracked open and Michael peered around the door. “Hey…”  
  
“Mickey?” Chuck stood, surprise on his face. The others all looked equally shocked. They hadn’t seen the red head since they’d left Paris six months previous.  
  
Michael smiled sheepishly as he stepped through the doorway, allowing the door to creak shut on rusty hinges.  
  
“Hey, long time…”  
  
The drummer countered sharply, “What the Hell happened to you? You just vanished after everything went down.”  
  
Michael shook his head slowly folding his arms across his chest. “I needed to distance myself. Raphael and Samiel are very strong personalities. They were the ones who called the shots originally…and I know that Pierre - Raph - was never truly pleased about my betrayal. Of course, that’s now over with, he forgave me…and I’m back.”  
  
Chuck scratched his cheek, taking in the expressions on his friends’ faces.  
  
“So, what do you want from us?”  
  
Michael shrugged, kneading at his right arm just above the crook of his elbow. “A permanent position on your crew.”  
  
David almost choked on his last gulp of beer. “You’re asking us?”  
  
Michael frowned, green eyes darkening. “Would you rather I demanded it?”  
  
The bassist giggled. “Jeeze…you don’t have to ask, stupid. We’d take you on in a fuckin’ heartbeat.”  
  
The redhead blinked rapidly, tightness forming in his throat. Chuck saw many different emotions warring in Michael’s eyes.  
  
“Hey, all the shit you pulled…you were redeemed weren’t you?”  
  
A strange light flickered in his eyes. “At least in your eyes…and I guess even Raphael trusted me in the end.”  
  
Jeff walked over to the bar fridge and grabbed a beer tossing it to Michael. “Here, welcome to the crew.”  
  
He smiled, snapping the lid and taking a long pull. “Ah, that’s good stuff.” He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “So, have you guys seen Raphael and Pat lately?”  
  
Chuck shot a look at Michael. “Yeah, a couple of days ago.”  
  
“They were in mighty good form, I can tell you that,” Jeff added, with a tiny smirk.  
  
“Yeah, real good.” David’s laughter split the atmosphere. “They’re always good when they’re together.”  
  
Michael chuckled. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing then that that is the way it’s supposed to be…for all time…”  
  
The men fell silent at that thought. Then Jeff sat down next to Seb on the floor and folded his arms.  
  
“Well as long as Raph sticks around to sing in the band.”  
  
Michael laughed. “I don’t think you need to worry about that; he looked like he was having a party on that last night in Paris.” He shrugged. “Anyway, like he said, Pierre is essentially a part of him. And, I’ve a feeling that all of his incarnations were partial to a bit of music.  _Anyway_  he’s an angel, of course he loves music…choir of angels and all that.”  
  
The eldest member of the band laughed smoothing a hand over his scalp.  
  
“I couldn’t imagine him singing in a choir, angelic or not.”  
  
“Well, he’s a good singer…and that’s all you need right?”  
  
David added, “And a great performer. He’s just like the old Pierre there.”  
  
Michael found a place to perch and nodded his head. “Indeed. So, where  _is_  the frontman, and his merch whore?”  
  
The others laughed at his choice of words, yet just shrugged at him. Chuck picked up his drumsticks and began to lightly roll the ends over the drum heads.  
  
“They’re probably killing time before we hit the road again on our full International tour.”  
  
“Yeah, wonder what they’re doing?”  
  
A lewd smirk crossed David’s face. The others just laughed, rolling their eyes. None of them really thought they needed to justify their friend with an answer. They all knew very well what those two men were probably up to. But who would blame them? After all, they were in love.  
  
 _ **Pierre’s (Raphael’s) Apartment**_  
  
“Have a look at this, Raph…”  
  
Raphael wandered into the living room, sporting a pair of black silk boxers and nothing else. Pat was sitting on the sofa with his laptop rested on his knees, surfing the Net. He didn’t look up as the archangel approached.  
  
“What is it, Sam?”  
  
Pat still didn’t focus on the half-naked being standing in front of him. “Anna sent me an email. Her and Joscelin got back together.”  
  
Raphael folded his arms and stared down at his soul mate. “Good on ‘em.”  
  
Pat nodded and scrolled down the message he was reading. “She also says she’s going to start tapping into the Heavenly realms to prepare her self for the End of Days.”  
  
“Wise.”  
  
Pat finally lifted his head detecting an edge in the elder male’s voice. He blinked just catching himself from starting at the vision before him. Raphael’s sculpted torso was exactly at his eyelevel. He swallowed hard and forced his eyes up to his face.  
  
“Jeeze…” He lifted a hand and pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Raphael…”  
  
Raphael leered suggestively. “Like what you see, eh?”  
  
Pat licked rapidly at his lips. “Fuck me dead, Bouvier…”  
  
The angel snorted. “That’s not really what I was aiming for.” He stepped closer, reached down and lifted the laptop from his lover’s lap setting it on the coffee table. “C’mon, all work and no play make Pattycake very boring…”  
  
Pat rolled his eyes. “For all your perfection you’re still gonna insist on calling me that?”  
  
Raphael’s smile softened. “I love you. What does it matter what I call you?”  
  
The younger man sighed. “It doesn’t.” He stood. “Anyway, I wasn’t working.”  
  
Raphael rolled his eyes and seized him around the waist, pulling him close and grinding his rapidly growing hard-on into his lover’s groin. “Feel that?”  
  
Pat growled low in his throat. “Bit hard to miss…”  
  
“Yeah, I’m hard for you.” Raphael’s voice rumbled almost dangerously; and then he slid his lips to his neck and nibbled at a spot just below Pat’s ear. He groaned and leaned his head back.  
  
“Fuck…”  
  
Raphael smirked against his neck and then bit him lightly. Pat gasped and grabbed at Raphael’s biceps squeezing hard.  
  
“ _Babe_ …”  
  
“Yeah…?”  
  
“ _Bed_ …”  
  
“Of course…”  
  
Raphael blinked once, vanishing them from the lounge, and appearing next to the large King-sized bed. In the process, he made the other man’s clothes vanish leaving him completely naked. Pat rolled his eyes and chuckled softly.  
  
“Lazy…”  
  
Raphael laughed, roughly. “Not so much.”  
  
He pushed Pat back onto the bed then straddled his hips pinning him down by his arms, staring down into his eyes. Pat gazed back seeing an animal lust in the angel’s eyes.  
  
“Raph?”  
  
Raphael ran the tip of his tongue over his lips.  _I could eat you up…_  
  
Pat shivered.  _How about you suck me off instead…_  
  
The angel pursed his lips.  _Not yet…I just want to touch you first…_  
  
Pat trembled, rolling his hips slightly under Raphael’s weight. The angel growled low and smoothed his left hand down the other man’s arm, trailing down his side then over his firm chest. He wrapped his thumb and finger around his left nipple, pinching lightly, teasingly. Pat grunted and writhed beneath him.  
  
“Oh, fuck…” His eyes rolled slightly. “What…”  
  
Raphael pinched harder, then switched nipples as he leaned down and took the left one in his mouth, sucking on it, soothing the pain away. He slowly, deftly, swirled his tongue along the tiny ridge that circled Pat’s nipple. Then he pulled back and smiled into his flushed face.  
  
 _Like that, eh?_  
  
Pat had no words to respond. His breath came rapidly and his dick was becoming uncomfortably hard. Raphael slid his eyes down Pat’s trembling body, sliding his hand down over his belly and stopping at the tangle of brown-blonde hairs. He raked his fingers through them. Pat groaned and bucked his hips.  
  
“Please…”  
  
Raphael licked his lips, then lifted his own body up onto his knees and tugged his boxers off unleashing his own raging hard-on. Pat groaned louder at the sight and lifted his hips more. Raphael shook his head pushing him back down.  
  
 _I want to try something else…_  
  
He shifted his position so he could slide the length of his cock against Pat’s, lying so he could watch as the two turgid rods rubbed against each other. Pat gasped at the sensation.  
  
“Holy fuck…”  
  
 _Yeah_ …  
  
Raphael snarled and moved harder, massaging his thumbs at the spot just below Pat’s navel. Sweat trickled down their bodies, trickling down their thighs, between their legs. Their guttural moans and grunts filled the room.  
  
Raphael gritted his teeth inching even closer, angling his length so he could cup Pat’s balls as well as his own, rubbing and pinching the sacs firmly.  
  
Pat grabbed at the sheets, Raphael’s hair, anything he could hold onto, his eyes rolling back into his head. Raphael smirked, and as he slid harder against Pat’s steely cock, he sent in a surge of power.  
  
Sparks flashed in the back of Pat’s eyes and he screamed out, balls tightening, cock stiffening. Raphael sent in one more surge, closing his own eyes and seeing it rush along the silver threads that connected their auras. Then he thrust once, their rods pressed flush together, still stroking both ball sacs with his hand. That was all it took.  
  
Pat exploded letting out an almost inhuman cry, and with his eyes closed he saw the light spilling from his and his lover’s auras as he released. Raphael let go almost a split second later and rainbow sparks flew around them, off their bodies and in the air surrounding them.  
  
 _Almighty…_  
  
Pat’s body gave out beneath Raphael’s and he slumped, exhausted upon the covers. Raphael settled above him, barely out of breath love shining in the depths of his eyes. His chest heaved slowly as he gently brushed Pat’s sweat-soaked hair from his face. Patrick panted heavily.  
  
“Holy shit…that was…” He breathed hard and turned his face away slightly; the force of his lover’s gaze was overwhelming.  _That was beyond words…_  
  
Raphael chuckled tenderly.  _Then don’t speak…_  
  
Pat blinked several times, still blowing hard. He tried to lift his hand to wipe the sweat from his face, yet his arm felt like a leaden weight.  
  
 _Fuck…that did me in…_  
  
Raphael leaned down and nuzzled the tip of his nose against his cheek. Then he gently rolled off Pat and lay next to him staring at him in earnest.  
  
 _Now you know what it is to make love to an Angel of the Realm._  
  
Pat very slowly rolled onto his side facing him. “Yeah…indeed…will it be like that every time?”  
  
Raphael smiled, switching to his physical voice. “Yes. And each time you’ll be less exhausted afterwards.”  
  
Pat laughed tiredly, “I hope so…otherwise it might kill me…”  
  
The angel shook his head, expression suddenly grave. “No. You’re immortal. It won’t kill you.”  
  
Pat sobered at his lover’s tone and closed his eyes. “How come…how come Pierre had to…”  
  
Raphael shifted closer and touched his cheek gently. “Pierre is still here…” He slid his hand down to take hold of Pat’s hand and pressed it to his heart. “In here…”  
  
A single tear traced down Pat’s cheek. Raphael kissed it away softly.  
  
“Patrick…”  
  
Pat trembled and peeked out at the angel. “Raphael…”  
  
Raphael breathed out steadily. “It’s all going to be alright, baby…” He snaked his arms around Pat’s neck and pulled him close, pressing their foreheads together. “All of this was meant to happen…and we have forever to be together…”  
  
Pat licked his lips staring deep into his soul mate’s eyes. “Forever?”  
  
Raphael flicked his eyes in affirmation.  _Oui. Forever._  
  
Pat smiled and allowed his eyes to close, relaxing into the covers, close to the angel’s solid body, so strong, so real, and so safe.  
  
He murmured sleepily as he began to drift into the land of sweet slumber. “Together forever…now that sounds like a _great_  plan…”  
  
Raphael chuckled as he closed his own eyes.  _Indeed, Samiel…our best plan yet…_


End file.
